Harry Potter and the Return of the Prisoner Revisited
by C.G.Hill
Summary: What if Sirius eluded death? What if other dark forces were at play in the wizarding world? Could the golden Trio handle it, or would they seek the help of new friends.
1. Chapter 1 Alive

_A/N: This is a revisited fan fiction I started my senior year of high school, and abandoned once I lost inspiration. Now however I have edited it, and have come up with so much new content for it. I really hope you all enjoy. Please let me know what you think of the new content so far. Read, review, and enjoy :] - C._

* * *

Opening his eyes, he sighed, _"_Another day of being dead..."

He had to admit, it wasn't much different than his previous year locked up in Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He hadn't been able to leave or for the most part and for safety's sake, talk to anyone.

"_But there are two very important distinctions from that_", he thought, and he was right.

Last year, he had no idea when, if ever, he'd be free. At least now he knew he would be leaving in a few months. And, most importantly last year he didn't have to let his best friend, in many ways, his only family, his Godson, believe he was dead.

* * *

Harry sat in his lonely bedroom at Number 4 Privet Drive, twirling his wand between his fingers absentmindedly, and starring at the blank wall before him. He was thinking back to that very morning...

Waking up with a start, his forehead burning, Harry sat up in bed, breathing heavily. Sunlight was leaking into his room from his solitary window. He groped for his glasses, finding them and putting them on, he let his eyes focus. Immediately, he was relieved. He was not, as he originally thought, in the broken down shack his dream took place in. He was not about to kill an innocent muggle. His hands where his own, not Voldemort's long stark white spindly fingers clasping a gnarly bone-handled wand. "It was just a dream" he breathed, and then jumped out of bed.

"I have to write to Sirius!" he exclaimed grabbing a quill, rolled up piece of parchment, and a bottle of brown ink, "I have to tell Sirius about this dream, he'll know what it..." he trailed off, the quill in his hand now dripping ink onto Dudley's old shabby desk that the Dursleys had supplied him with. "Oh..." he gasped, "... Sirius..." he dropped the quill, splattering himself and a now irritated Hedwig with ink. Sliding down to sit on the ground next to his bed, he quietly said "Sirius.. is.. dead...". He hung his head as an overwhelming wave of grief shook him, and he let out a low, shuddering sob.

He could hardly believe he had forgotten the death of his beloved Godfather that morning. How could he forget the look in his eyes as he watched him slip though the Mysterious Veil less than a month ago? How could he forget the vacantness he had felt since then? Or the innumerable tears he had shed? Sirius was his only family, the closest to a father he could every remember having, and now, like his real father, Voldemort had killed him.

Rage filled his chest and he slammed his fist against the floorboards. He stood, walking in circles, frustrated at his current position. He wanted to cause Voldemort pain, pain like he had caused Harry and so many others. He kicked his partially empty trunk with force, it slid across the floor and slammed into his wardrobe.

"Stop that racket boy! What do you think you're doing?!" Vernon yelled from below. Normally Harry would have ignored this and tried to be quieter, but given his current mood, and hearing his patronizing uncle calling him "Boy" really set him over edge. Wand in hand, he banged his door open, walked swiftly down the hall, & took the steps two at a time. After reaching the hall, he stomped into the living room where his massive uncle was sitting on the couch, looking more like a beached whale than a human being. His uncle's face reddened at Harry's entrance and, practically, turned purple after he spotted his wand. This gave Harry a great satisfaction, he could see the fear behind Vernon's eyes.

"What, may I ask, are you doing walking around with that bloody wa- Bloody Rubbish in my house?" Vernon screamed.

"Coming to teach you a lesson, I expect," challenged Harry with a smug smile.

"Is that so?" bellowed Vernon, getting louder to cover the fear in his voice, he was sweating profusely.

"My name is _Harry_! Not '_Boy'_! _Harry bloody Potter and you damn well know it!" _The words where erupting from Harry before he cold consider what he was saying, but he felt invigorated. His wand tip began to glow as he raised it level with Vernon's massive bristling mustache, and he continued to rant. "What do I have to do to make you remember it, hmm? Maybe carve it into your hand deep enough the scar never fades?" the words _I must not tell lies_ showed clearly against Harrys skin as he gripped his wand.

Petunia had entered from the kitchen, elbow length rubber gloves still on her skinny arms. Her mouth hung open as she took in the Scene. "Vernon..." she said quietly.

"Well, you little... I ought too... You..." Stammered Vernon.

Harry's wand tip glowed brighter, he was about to threaten Vernon again, when Petunia spoke up.

"They won't let you back.. You won't go back to school if you do anything.. You.. You'll have nothing, and we'll kick you out..." She said as calmly and forcefully as she could manage.

Harry couldn't care less about them kicking him out, but he hadn't been thinking, he wasn't of age yet, he couldn't do magic to harm Vernon. As much as it pained him, he lowered his wand. Vernon let out a whooshing breath.

"Do not call me 'boy' again," Harry said firmly. "Or I will do something about it. Hogwarts or not." Turning on his heel, he left the room and ascended the stairs back to his room.

Shutting the door quietly, he laid his wand on his desk and sat on the edge of his bed, putting his face in his hand. "What is up with me?" he mumbled to himself.

Tap. Tap tap. Tap tap tap. "Whaaaa?" mumbled Harry. Tap tap tap tap tap. "Uhh, Whaaat?" he sat up and took a look around. He must have fallen asleep, he was still dressed, and wearing he glasses, he groggily looked around, searching for the source of the tapping. A large barn owl was rapping at his window, looking quite exhausted. Harry stumbled toward the window, unlatched it, and threw it open. The owl swooped in, landed on his desk, and held out its leg so Harry could remove the parchment tied to it. After being relieved of its burden, it swooped back out of the open window.

Harry stood looking a bit dazed, still more asleep than awake. He considered flopping back in bed and reading the letter later, but curiosity got the better of him. Sitting down, trying to ignore the dried ink on his desk top from this morning, he unrolled the parchment. Immediately he recognized the looping print to belong to none other than the Head Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore. For a second Harry smiled, Dumbledore had always been very kind and extremely fair to Harry: he always believed Harry, even if the situations he was found in where less than positive. But then it hit him _"Why would Dumbledore be writing to me? I've hardly been away from Hogwarts for a week.." _he thought. Taking a deep breath, preparing for bad news, he began to read:

Dear Harry,

I have written to inform you that I, myself, will be coming to collect you from Number 4 Privet Dr on Monday, July the 17th. Please have your trunk packed and ready, as you will not be returning to your Aunt and Uncle until next summer's break. I will be escorting you to The Burrow, and, of course, I believe we will be making a stop along the way. There are some things I would like to discuss.

I think, Harry, that you are going to really enjoy this coming school year, there are a few surprises in store for you, one of which we we'll discuss when I come and get you. I would ask you to inform your Aunt and Uncle of my arrival, and also, not to do anything you would later regret in regards to them. Enjoy your summer.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Harry couldn't help but smile. Nothing got past Dumbledore, he must have somehow known about his outburst earlier with Vernon. And he would be leaving in a matter of weeks, not the two months of torture he had been anticipating. Perhaps seeing Ron, and surely Hermione would be there too, would cheer him up. He always had a great time at the Weasley's, he felt at home in their family. He knew Mrs. Weasley looked at him as another son, and he saw her almost like a mother.

With warm thoughts of the Weasleys, Harry crawled back into bed and fell asleep. He was very glad he had not put off reading the letter.

* * *

Hogwarts' Professor Severus Snape sat in his dim study, pouring over a book of rather complex potions he was considering for his sixth year NEWT students. There was a rather urgent rap on his front door. He sighed, gently marking his page. He stood and turned, and saw the short, grubby man that had been forced into his company emerging from behind a door.

"Stay, Wormtail, I don't know who it may be." Snape said with a scowl on his face. As Wormtail reentered his room, Snape walked to the front door, and opened it slowly. He had not been expecting anyone, but seeing the people at the door, he was even more surprised. What exactly was Narcissa Malfoy doing here? And why would she bring her sister along "_Ugh.. I loath Bellatrix..." _he thought. Taking in the fact that Narcissa looked frazzled, and her eyes where full of fear, he decided being kind would probably be best, even though the look on Bellatrix's face made his hand twitch toward his wand.

"Hello, Narcissa... Bellatrix." Snape said in his drawling voice "To what do I own this vist?".

"Severus, please, I need to speak with you. May we come in?" Narcissa asked, pleading in her voice.

"Cissy, no, you mustn't! Come along!" Bellatrix growled behind her sister, attempting to turn her. Narcissa impatiently broke away, as if Bellatrix was simply a misbehaving child clutching at her skirts.

Snape ignored Bellatrixs remark, only responding to Narcissa, hoping her sister would catch the drift "Yes, _you_ may." He then stepped away from the door so she could enter. Narcissa went gladly by, and as Snape began to shut the door, Bellatrix shoved through as well. He sighed as he shut the door, Snape escorted the women to his sitting room. He could only assume what Narcissa was here about, given what he has over heard the Dark Lord saying a few days previous. As they entered the sitting room he gestured to the couch, indicating the women should sit. Narcissa did immediately, not looking quiet strong enough to stand for very long at all. Bellatrix however rudely ignored his gesture and began wandering along the bookshelf at the back of the room. _"Well she's always been very nosey"_ thought Snape.

"Shall I get us some wine, ladies?" Asked Snape, attempting to play a good host, even if he despised a complete half of his company.

"Y-yes, that would be lovely..." Said Narcissa, looking anxiously at her hands.

Snape walked to the door Wormtail had disappeared behind previously, paused, and rapped once, loudly with force against the door. A light thump could be heard from someone quickly jumping back. _"Bellatrix is a little better than Wormtail I suppose... He listens to EVERYTHING." _thought Snape with a smug smile, knowing he had just scared him. "Wormtail!" He called out.

Wormtail opened the door and stepped out. "Y-yes, Severus?"

"Go and get a bottle of wine from my cellar, and three glasses." Snape said in a rather bored tone

"Severus, I am not your slave, the Dark Lord merely asked me to-" Wormtail began.

"Are you not staying in my house at my inconvenience?" Snape said, pausing slightly, though not enough to allow Wormtail to answer "Wine, then, Wormtail, and once you bring it, make yourself scarce. No hanging around in the shadows listening like the rat you are."

Wormtail left the room looking affronted. Not much time passed before he had returned, Snape and his guest had remained silent, aside from Bellatrix mumbling to herself. Wormtail handed Snape the three glasses and the bottle of wine with out a word, and turned on his heal to return to his room, shutting the door with a soft bang. Snape served his guests and sat in a chair next to where Narcissa was sitting. She took a sip of her wine, and then sat it on the low coffee table before them.

"Severus, The Dark Lord wants Draco to.. He wants Draco to do it. Why would he intrust his most important task to my 16 year old son? Why have Draco do it when you are much more able?" Narcissa finally said, her voice pained, hardly holding back tears.

"He is far from pleased with Lucius at the moment, I assume it is a form of punishment for him." Snape said in a quiet voice that was almost cold. _"It is quiet like him to take those who mean most to his followers"_ Snape thought knowingly.

"It isn't right! He's my baby! My only son! My only _child_! He can't do it, he's too young, and the Dark Lord knows it!" cried out Narcissa, finally succumbing to tears.

Snape sighed, he had seen this coming from the moment he heard the Dark Lord mention Draco's name. Not that he had ever been particularly close to Narcissa, but he knew she could come to him. He was about to speak when she went on.

"But Severus, you're the best for the job, he trusts you! Convince him to let you do it, please! I know you can, he trusts your input!" She had moved forward, grabbing Snape's hand with her own small, clammy hands, in the middle of her plea.

"Narcissa, he will not be pleased that I have been told. Of course, I'm sure he plans to tell me, seeing as I will be close to the.. situation. But I can't just go against him, he will question me," Snape said matter-o-factly.

"I _told_ you, Cissy. He is not to be trusted! The Dark Lord cannot see, but I can, he is not loyal to us! He is loyal to _him!"_Bellatrix hissed .

Grimacing at Bellatrix's words, Snape smoothed his face and responded "We mustn't stick our nose in others' business, Bellatrix, it's rude." he said as if scolding a child. "_She doesn't have a scrap of tact._"

"Why, you Bloody dirty git!" yelled Bellatrix, drawing her crooked wand.

Narcissa stood so quickly, anyone watching would have been shocked, placing herself between the two, in line of the glowing wandtip, she yelled, "Enough, Bella! I trust Severus! If you care any for myself or my family, you will SHUT UP!"

Bellatrix's heavily lidded eyes widened. "If it where MY son, I would be PROUD the Dark Lord chose him! I wouldn't go behind his back! I alone am faithful!" she cried out in the same mournful, painfully passionate tone she often used.

"Be quiet, Bella." Snape said calmly, back in his chair, as he watched the sisters.

"DO NOT SPEAK TO ME AS IF I WERE A CHILD SEVERUS!" Bellatrix yelled. Narcissa did not even acknowledge her sister's yell, in a low pleading voice to Snape, bending over his chair. "Please Severus, at least help him, please, he can't do this on his own, and the Dark Lord will kill him if he fails! Please!"

"I will help Narcissa... I will try," Snape said quietly.

Bellatrix, irritated at being cut out yet again, interrupted the quiet tone of the room by loudly saying, "Well, if he really means it, he'll make the Unbreakable Vow. He can't be trusted otherwise." A small, cruel smile spread across her face.

"_Unbreakable Vow... Oh... 'at all costs' he said... I suppose"_ thought Snape. Narcissa looked from her sister to Snape, then spoke in a small broken voice "Will you, Severus? He's my only son... "

After a pause Snape spoke in a resolute voice. "Yes. I will. Bella, come, you will make the bond."

In silence, Bellatrix crossed to the space behind but directly in between them, a look of unabashed disbelief on her face. Snape grasped Narcissa's hands and looked her in the eye, nodding to Bellatrix. Out of her wand came a serpent of fire, winding its way around the joined hands of Snape and Narcissa. Bellatrix spoke. "Do you, Severus Snape vow to assisting Draco Malfoy in the task the Dark Lord has set him?"

"I do," spoke Snape. The serpent tightened its hold. Belatrix spoke again. "And do you vow, if Draco fails in this task, to complete it yourself?"

After a pause, Snape said, "I do." Yet again, the serpent tightened again. Bellatrix spoke a third time. "And will you protect Draco's life with your own?"

_"Bloody old man... " _thought Snape, but he answered. "Yes, I do." And with this, the serpent gave a final squeeze and then vanished, leaving faint raised marks on Severus. "It is done," said Bellatrix with a mischievous satisfied smile.

Narcissa broke down into tears again, but this time it was relief, the exhaustion was visible throughout her thin form.

"Bellatrix, I think you should take your sister home. She needs rest, and I now have a lot more to prepare for in the coming school year," Snape said. Bellatrix helped her sister rise from the couch, and escorted her, followed by Snape, to the door. Before leaving Narcissa thanked him once more, and then they where gone with a crack.

Snape groaned, turning, and reentering his house. He returned to the sitting room, and finished his glass of wine _"I'm really in a fix now.. "_ he thought. He then sat down at the desk he had been reading at earlier, grabbed a quill, ink, and some parchment, and began to write a letter about what had just happened. He knew he should probably tell this story in person, but the chances of _his_ mail being intercepted where slim, and he was just so tired. After sending the letter off with his dark, large owl, he retired for the evening.

"What in Merlin's name possessed me to do that? THAT?" thought Hermione Granger as she sat in the window seat of her bedroom, starring out the window, chewing on he bottom lip. "Ohh!" she huffed, throwing her arms down in frustration. She went over her memory of earlier that night for probably the seventh time.

* * *

Grabbing her bathrobe she hesitated at her dresser, finally she withdrew from the top drawer her a set of red lace bra & knickers. Stuffing these in the robe, she dodged into the bathroom across the hall. She turned the hot water on in the shower. She then faced the large mirror over the sink, looked herself squarely in the eye, and said "Calm down. And stop being stupid!" in a measuring voice. After taking a deep breath she undressed, and without glancing at her reflection, hopped in the steamy stream of water, pulling the curtain shut. She stood there for a few minutes, letting the warm water relax her muscles, and then she proceeded with her shower, being sure to shave extra carefully.

Once toweled off she stared at the small wad of scarlet lace on the counter. After a steady breath, she grabbed the knickers, sliding them up over her shapely legs onto her round bum. She then reached for the bra and slid it on. Quickly, without looking in the mirror she grabbed her bathrobe, wrapped it around her tightly, and sprinted for her room.

Standing before her full body mirror lined with photographs of her friends, she untied the robe and let it drop to the floor. With a deep breath she opened her eyes, looking up from her feet, she took in her lengthy peachy pale legs, moving up to her shapely hips and the red lace sitting below them. She almost smiled at the way the red contrasted with her skin. She slid her left hand over her left hipbone and smiled, then continued to look up past her flat but somehow soft tummy to where the red bra sat. At this, she grinned. She had, for a long period of time, been flat chested, but now her bosom was a pleasant size, and shape. Her eyes then met her reflected eyes and she sighed. True, she wasn't ugly but "_my face is soooo plain!"_ she thought. In truth, her lips had a pleasant arch and a full look, her nose straight, her cheekbones prominent, and her eyes large and warm, though she did not see this.

Sighing once more she sat on her bed. "What am I doing?" she thought and then the dream she had the pervious nice fell back into her mind. A fire lit deep within her, and brushed the length of her skin, leaving goose bumps. Confidently, she stood, positioned a camera with a timer of 30 seconds and stood before it, striking a provocative pose. The camera flashed and 20 seconds later the photo fell out of the slot in the front of the camera. Hermione grabbed it, and wrote "To Ron" in a flowery hand in a dark crimson ink, on the back of the photo. After a second of thought she added a heart. She then stuffed the photo into an envelope and scribbled "Ronald Weasley, The Burrow" on it, and sealed it. Then, grabbing the owl she had stay behind after delivering her Daily Prophet that morning, she tied the letter to its leg. It gave her an inquisitive look. "Don't look at me like that," she told it, and it took flight, leaving Hermione alone, her cat Crookshanks staring at her as the owl had.

Sighing again Hermione opened her window, and looked around. "Oh that was such a stupid idea! Stupid!" she muttered to herself. The idea to send such a compromising photo had simply just popped into her head. And although she had hesitated, she thought it for the best. She had liked Ron for as long as she could remember, and she almost doubted he even saw her as a woman. "Hey, Hermione, you're a girl right?" he had said in their fourth year. Hmph! But otherwise he made her laugh, the way his eyebrows knitted together when he was trying to understand some new concept. The way he always defended her, though she didn't need it, made her happy. She had to try to get him to notice her somehow, didn't she? It was true, she wasn't the most girly, she spent more time on her studies than she did on her appearance, and she took pride in not being vain. But that didn't mean she didn't want to not be noticed, or maybe even called pretty. And honestly, after the Department of Mysteries, she didn't want to take a chance on waiting on him to speak up. Even with all this in mind, Hermione couldn't help but be anxious.

Closing her window, Hermione walked over and flopped onto her bed, and stared at the light coffee colored wall in front of her. "_What will he say? What will he __**do**__?"_ she thought, then gasped out loud. "What if he sends one back!" She squeaked, stuffing a pillow over her face.

An idea struck her to write a friend to consult them on what to do, and have it sent in the morning, but then, realizing Ron and Harry where her only close friends, she sat back and silently cursed herself for not being buddy-buddy with any of the girls in Gryffindor tower. It would be mortifying to write Harry about this. With a gasp she realized Ron would probably tell Harry. Blushing so deeply she could feel the heat coming off of her face, she finally clicked off her light and got into bed to sleep.

* * *

She couldn't believe she would be leaving soon, for an entirely different life. She wasn't sure how to feel. Olive had always been adventurous, but she loved her life the way it was. It had forever just been her and her parents in their big homey, magically enhanced tent, moving from place to place. She realized she didn't have the most common upbringing, even for a witch, but her parents' professions called for them to move around a lot, and they had enough down time to be able to school Olive at home and take her on their journeys. She'd never been to a "real" school, she'd learned to read at the table with her mother, she'd learned math on her father's knee, she brewed her first potion at the work bench her mother had had as long as she could recall.

She wasn't sheltered in the least, her parents had always encouraged her to interact with others, and they had regular colleagues that they hired out most of the time who had a son, Benjamin, her age. For periods of time he would stay with them, he was her best friend. But still the concept of finally going to Hogwarts, which she had heard much about from her mother, was somewhat daunting. It was a comfort that Benjamin would be coming as well, and her parents had insisted it really was necessary with the current "state" of things. Whispers of Voldemort returning had been floating around for awhile but as of a few months again it was no longer deniable that he was back, and the Forests weren't comfortable sitting idly by. "You'll be much safer at Hogwarts than with us, Honey, but we wont be far".

As she contemplated she watched her father getting ready for a process she had witnessed many a time in her 16 years. On the table in front of him sat a two and a half foot by six inch hunk of a previously selected wood, this time it was a nice solid oak she noted. Next to this sat the specialized blade his trade called for, a 3" tear drop shaped goblin-made carving blade with a crescent cut out on one side, imbued with dragon blood and Akhn Serum. This blade was key, without it one could never hope to craft a decent wand. The elements of the blade allowed it to ready the wood for the processes it would soon endure.

She knew the process as well as she knew her own father. Wand making had been a constant part of her life.

He sat himself on a well worn stool, and with a practiced wave of his wand he spoke the incantation she had heard thousands of times.

"Et veniet usque ad senem, vita nova, ne in canales communicationis patefacio" in his rumbling voice and he was lost to the wood.

This phrase she knew allowed him to have a certain level of communication with the wood, through its life's energy it would speak to him, showing him what it wanted to become, and soon he would begin carving it. But first a second incantation was murmured to open the wood up further to its potential. " Aperi canem" would be the last thing he said out loud with any conviction for 3 hours at least and 10 at most. Here or there he would mutter something, but nothing meant for anyone but the wood or himself.

She loved the concentrated look on his face, it was as much a part of what home meant to her as her own bed was. His eyebrows creased, and his olive green eyes, identical to hers, sparkled with a mixture of curiosity and mischief, much like the eyes of a child.

While he worked his wood, her mother would be preparing the next stage for the wand she knew, and so she turned her head to watch one more time, committing it all to memory, not sure when she might see her mother at work again. The petite woman stood before her work bench humming a familiar tune Olive associated with work, her soft hair pushed back off her shoulders. Before her was her cauldron heating slowly, and the line of familiar potion ingredients, a dark flask of dragon blood, a squat jar of pale blue Will of Wisp dust, a tall jar of delicate Niffler femurs (collected from naturally deceased Nifflers, of course), a hazy container full of dragon testicles (collected form stillborn dragons), and a small flask of sparkling Thestral saliva. Her mother was at her happiest brewing potions, a feeling Olive shared wholeheartedly, how ever she had never made this particular potion. She knew every step, and every ingredient, but it took a very powerful witch to brew, and she wasn't yet at that level.

After she added the ingredients and set it to a low simmer, Olive's mother tenderly lifted the core that would soon bond with the forming wand wood. Today they were working with a new core they had recently been experimenting with, a single delicate hair won from the head of a sphinx. It shimmered slightly as she murmured to it in an almost loving manner; her parents truly loved their work.

To the Forests, each wand they made was almost like another child, and each advancement they made in the study of Wandlore was a magnificent achievement to the magical world. Olive tended to agree with the latter, she herself had a definite fascination with wands.

A few hours later, her father dispelled his communicative state with his now fully carved wand.

"This one's going to be a beauty, Emma. Such a lovely piece of wood it was to work with," he said in his deep voice.

"I rather hope the core bonds well with it." her mother replied in her chipper tone.

Together they stood before her cauldron, he holding his wand, she holding her core, and together they placed the two in the Draught of Migration so that core and wood could bond and become one. From what they had told Olive the process was beautiful, but it took the maker to be able to see what was happening within the potion, to her it simply looked like any other bubbling potion, slightly lilac in coloration. What she had seen however was the mild glow that occurred at the lip of the cauldron when core and wand finally merged together, forming a fledgling wand. Every wand was different, therefore every wand took its own time completing the process. Some cores and woods were more automatically compatible, taking only a few short hours. Others were more complex taking five or six.

While this process took place, Mrs. Forest would begin, in a second and small cauldron of Goblin-made gold, preparing the Potum Solidos, which served to cement the bond of the wand and heighten its semi-sentient state. The complexity of this potion was very interesting to Olive. Its 5 ingredients, all extremely powerful magical items, were lined up next to the cauldron. A bottle of pearly Phoenix tears, an aged jug half full of milky yellow basilisk venom, a vial of sparkling sphinx saliva, a pot of ashy purple vampire dust, and a bottle of teal mermaid tears. Each ingredient was used extremely sparingly, and if not in the perfect proportion, the potion would become volatile. From another jar, Mrs. Forest would produce an ever burning Chimaera flame with which she would heat this mixture once the wand was ready to enter it. Each of the elements required in this final draft were extremely difficult to come by, and therefore extremely valuable. Olive was told each wand markers' final potion would vary. Her parents had taken years to perfect Potum Solidos, and thought it to be the perfect compilation of elements.

Once the wand was set in Potum Solidos, it would soak in it until completely finished, which never took much time at all. Once it reached its finished state, there would be some magical display, which would vary from potion to potion. Today, there was a sudden haze of sweetly scented pink smoke wafting from the cauldron.

"Ah, Indy its ready," Emma said to her husband as she extracted the wand from the cauldron. Olive and her father walked over to have a look at it together.

With his arm around his daughter's shoulder he said, "A beautiful specimen for a last night in our portable home for many a year. I can't wait to see who this one chooses."

* * *

From behind his half moon spectacles, Dumbledore looked up from his desk for the first time in an hour or so, out the window into the night sky. "_What is happening out there, it feels different than before... heavier.." _Sighing he pushed this thought from his head.

Musing on what other forces may or may not be at work could wait just a moment, currently he had to finish up sorting through the applications to attend Hogwarts the following semester so that letters could be written and sent out promptly. With Tom's appearance at the Department of Mysteries, and the news coverage of it, many students whose parents had previously chosen to teach them themselves abroad or at home had decided to send them to Hogwarts. A good percentage of their numbers had parents who also sought to join the rebellion and help the fight. For this Dumbledore was reasonably happy. And he'd be more than welcome to accept as many as he could to his school. However, he must make certain each potential pupil was up to the level of their peers, especially those hoping to enroll in NEWT subjects.

In the past there had never been many students above first year joining the school for the first time, so their was the question of which houses they'd be placed in as well. "_Mm... they'll just have to be sorted with the first years I suppose..."_.

In the end only one of the students must be told now. Even in the circumstances, Hogwarts couldn't accept a student younger than 11. Perhaps he could arrange something else for the boy..

Ah, he couldn't let it go, there was something changing out there, something more than Voldemort simply gaining power. The balance of active magic had changed, something new was stirring.

He could speak to Severus and see if he'd noted any changes, but he doubted much would come from that. No he needed another plan... Sirius. He would help now, he was a free man, a smart man, a motivated man. But what would he have him look for? No, you couldn't have someone search for a feeling. He needed to gather more information.

Perhaps he could speak with some of the people he had known sometime ago who had been abroad that would be returning soon with their kids. There were always one or two mysterious rumors floating around, and one of them might hold some truth, you never know. A brilliant man would know never to dismiss something without further proof and analysis.

Ah, he was exhausted, it was enjoyable for him to seek out new information and imperative to him to stop more evil from bubbling up in the world, however he was no longer as young as he once had been and pondering so many avenues of information added up. He'd have to call it a night and continue his work tomorrow.

* * *

Ron Weasley was sprawled out across his bed, face down, snoring loudly, and twitching slightly. An irritated looking owl landed on the window seal outside of his room, the sun rising behind it. It tapped its beak loudly against the glass window pane, continuing for several minutes before Ron finally stirred.

"What tha' bloody hell..." groaned Ron as he came to. Locating the source of the taping, he opened his window and untied the letter from the owls leg quickly, wanting to get it out of his room before his little owl Pig got excited. Flopping back down onto the bed he ripped open the envelope. Right away he saw "To Ron" in Hermione's handwriting with a heart next to his name. "Whats this all about?" he mumbled, blushing. He flipped over what he thought was parchment to see an extremely sexy woman in skimpy red lingerie. His mouth fell open. Eventually he got past the body to see familiar brown eyes and pink lips giving him a saucy smile from the photograph. "_It's Hermione!"_ he thought, finally making the connection. "BLOODY HELL!" he yelled,jumping slightly and knocking some junk off his night stand, the photo slipping from his hands. He quickly patted his sheets looking for it.

Outside of his tiny room, Mrs. Weasley was passing and paused. "Everything okay, Ron dear?" she called from outside the door?

Ron's heart stopped, his mom! "Yeah, just fine I - uh - stepped on a quill.." he said in a gruff voice.

"Oh... Why are you up so early dear?" Mrs. Wesley asked in a concerned voice.

"Dunno... Pig woke me up," Ron said, grasping for a reason, true an owl had woken him up, but it hadn't been pig who woke him up.

"Alright, I'll have breakfast ready in 15 minutes." Mrs. Wesley said before bustling down the stairs. Ron let out a deep breath and looked down at the photographed Hermione, she was now looking down a bit awkwardly, but still holding the sexy pose. "Bloody hell," Ron whispered to himself, not able to take his eyes from the photo. He'd always been attracted to Hermione, but he never noticed how down right sexy she had become. He stood, trying to ignore the throbbing bulge in his pants that had appeared the moment he had taken in the woman in the photo was Hermione, he needed to focus on how to respond, not getting 'distracted'.

He sighed, prying his eyes from the photo, he awkwardly walked to his desk and wrote "Dear Hermione" on a piece of parchment then he sighed again, what to say! Abandoning this, he grabbed a fresh sheet of parchment and wrote "Harry," at the top, then paused again. "_God, she'd kill me, wouldn't she? Oh well.. Harry won't tell..."_ he thought, and then finished his letter:

Harry,

Hermione sent me, well, a picture, of her... and blimey, Harry, she's starkers! Or, well in her knickers, but still! There is no note, just my name on the back of the photo and a heart. How in Merlin's name do I respond to this! Help, please!

Ron

He then rolled it up, secured it, woke Pig up roughly and told him, "Get this to Harry _soon_, wait for his response and bring it back straight away!" Pig chirped and flew out the still open window.

Ron was just about to walk back over and look at the photo again, but his mother's voice drifted up calling "Breakfast!". He took a deep breath and left his room.


	2. Chapter 2 Introductions

_A/N: Alright, heres chapter two for y'all. I received a question about the O.C.'s, and hopefully any confusion anyone had will be cleared up in this chapter as there are several interactions with the main O.C.'s for this story. Not much has deviated in this chapter from the original post aside from new material. Big thanks to my beta and good friend for proof reading and listening to late night brainstorming. Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think :]. _

_-C. _

Sirius Black sat in the Black family manor with his house elf Kreacher. As of late, Sirius had become quite fond of him. How could he not when the little elf had saved his life not even a month previous?

"Would master like Kreacher to prepare some supper? Perhaps Steak and Kidney pie?" asked the elf in a cheery hopeful manner.

"That would be lovely, Kreacher. Make enough for the both of us and a guest if you don't mind. We're having company over tonight." Sirius answered, smiling at the prospect of having company that would be arriving soon.

"I shall, master, and perhaps a nice apple tart for dessert?" Kreacher added, his mouth watering slightly. He had put on a small, yet significant about of weight since saving Sirius, his master now allowed him to share meals with him at the kitchen table, something the little elf had never imagined doing before. Other improvements included a soft, very clean, small white sheet he wore slung around himself like a toga, and new blankets and a pillow for his cubby. Sirius has offered him a small room, but Kreacher had spent most of his life sleeping in his cubby, and found it homey.

"Sounds great," Sirius said with a grunt as he stood, and began to follow him to the kitchen. "I'll help cut apples while I await Dumblerdore's arrival."'

"Master Sirius doesn't have to help. Kreacher can manage." voiced the elf with concern, were his apple slices not up to Sirius's liking?

"No, I want to, Kreacher. I enjoy working with you in the kitchen, it keeps me occupied and you're pleasant company," Sirius reassured him, with a smile. Then sitting at the table with a knife and several large green apples he began to work. He peeled and sliced them in silence, watching as Kreacher bustled about the kitchen, waving this or that here and there with snaps of his fingers. He smiled to himself and chuckled, Kreacher really looked a different, happier elf. It was hard for him to believe he had once hated this funny little fellow, but then again things had been different. He thought back to the shock he had felt when the elf had saved him, one moment he had been dueling with his deranged cousin Bellatrix, just barely dodging the stream of green light she sent at him, when he tripped and had begun to fall backward toward the veil. He had felt death looming as he got closer to falling into its surface. He could hear the whispers of the dead and even of death himself. Just when thought he should have passed through it and been banished to the World of the Dead forever, he felt a small hand almost yank him from reality, and with the familiar crushing feeling of Apparition, he found himself sprawled out on the very table he now sat at. And with him came a bawling elf crying out, "Kreacher has failed! Kreacher has not done his duty to the noble family of Black!". In a confused half gasp, Sirius had said, "Kreacher! What are you carrying on about!?... how am I.. _not_ dead?... I felt it coming..." The little elf had flung his skinny arms around Sirius's neck and called out, "Kreacher did not fail his mistress! Master Sirius lives! He lives!" Sirius had later learned, once Kreacher settled down enough to speak properly, his mother ordered Kreacher to make sure if either of her sons returned, that he would keep them safe. He had found this difficult to believe, but couldn't think of any other reason Kreacher would have saved him, at that time at least, so he believed it. A sort of final request before death took her he assumed. At this moment there was one loud knock on the door that interrupted Sirius's train of thought, but he smiled anyways, looking forward to dinner conversation. It, he hoped, would be good news. He stood from his seat, and told Kreacher he'd get the door, and the elf could whip up the apple tart and get it in the oven.

Sirius opened the door and smiled into the kindly bearded face and crinkling eyes of Albus Dumbledore who greeted him, "Ahhh, Sirius, so pleasant to see you, even still, after your close brush with death. May I ask, what that lovely smell is?"

"Kreacher has prepared steak and kidney pie for us, and an apple tart for desert. We've made you a portion, I assumed you'd like to eat after being on business all day," Sirius told him as he escorted him to the dinner table that the elf had set hastily for two. He motioned for Dumbledore to sit and turned to his elf. "Kreacher, don't be silly now, you're joining us. I'm sure Albus will find your company pleasant just as I do." The elf smiled and with a snap of his thin fingers a third plate appeared on the table.

"So, how'd it all go?" Sirius said, leaning in across the table as he spoke, extremely interested with what Dumbledore had to say, as anyone would be if the news had to do with their well being. Kreacher had just served out three portions of pie, and sat down himself next to Sirius.

"Well, all in all, it went quite as I had expected. Although we have some more ground work to do," Dumbledore said, and the shuffled a steaming bite of pie into his mouth and chewed happily, giving a nod to Kreacher and smiling at him.

"Please, tell me all about the conversation! I've waited so long for this, I want to know every detail! If you don't mind that is, sir," Sirius spoke with so much enthusiasm Dumbledore couldn't help but chuckle.

"Of course Sirius, I understand. Before my arrival, the Minster had no inkling of why I was coming, only that I was coming to discuss an important matter. When I arrived and announced the matter was Sirius Black, he about toppled over backwards, it was quite humorous in any case. I proceeded to tell him I had proof you were innocent. At this, he practically gaped at me and reminded me that you had been convicted, and he thoroughly thought you guilty. I told him he could see for himself that you did not murder Peter Pettigrew, and that Peter himself was loyal to Voldemort, so you, of course, would have had no motivation in killing those muggles." Dumbledore paused to take a sip of the small glass of brandy Kreacher had brought him, and to take a few more bites of his pie before continuing. Sirius was sitting on the edge of his seat, hanging on every word. "And then I showed him the memory Severus provided, of course I didn't say specifically whose memory it was, of Pettigrew talking with Voldemort recently. He could not dispute visual proof and said he would love to speak to you personally, assuming I knew where you were and that a trial will have to be had. He also mentioned, offhandedly that he'd like to keep it out of the news for a bit, what will all the news of Death Eater attacks recently. I went ahead and spoke for you and told him that would be fine. Keep in mind, it staying away from the news is better for our purposes, at least for now. He then mentioned that when he sees you, he'll be happy to set up some form of reparation for your false imprisonment. And with that, I told him I would send him an owl with when we could all meet, and went about my way," Dumbledore finished with a smile, having paused through out to take bites of his pie, he was now done with his portion and looking satisfied.

Sirius also looked quite satisfied. He would finally be a free man and after nearly 16 long years, most of that spent in prison, he would be free! "The sooner the better for the meeting. I cannot wait to be able to go about my business, and not be cooped up anymore! Ah! Harry will be so excited!" Sirius said, feeling more alive than he had in since Harry knew of his innocence.

"Now, Sirius, he mustn't know yet. Things are still far too complicated. I believe I'm going to have a mission for you soon, as well. But in a few months he will and everything will be peachy! Ah! Speaking of peaches, Kreacher, may I have a slice of that heavenly smelling apple tart you have prepared? " Dumbledore asked as he placed a hand on his stomach, and smiled at the small elf.

At being complimented and spoken to so kindly by such a wonderful wizard, Kreacher's heart swelled with pride and he said, "Of course, sir! Kreacher will fetch you and Master Sirius dessert, and thank you sir!" He then scurried off to serve up the tart.

Sirius has drooped slightly at the thought of having to wait to share not only the fact that he was alive, but also free, with Harry. But the relatively short amount of time he had to wait perked him up again. He could live a life! A real life, and things had never been better, or not since James and Lily passed at least. "How soon should we meet, then? I'd like to get this done. I'd like to be free, even if I still have to stay here for awhile, just knowing I'm really free will help." He said in an earnest voice.

"We'll meet soon. I was thinking perhaps this coming Thursday. I've always liked Thursdays myself, good feeling and all," Dumbledore said before diving into his tart.

"It's settled then. Only four days to wait, wow." Sirius smiled, and looked over at Kreacher who was beaming at him as well. Sirius had told the elf when he was free, he could come with him wherever he went if he'd like, and that Kreacher could relax some. This seemed to have made the elf even more cheerful at the prospect of his master's freedom.

* * *

After returning to his small, untidy room from breakfast, which had left Harry still hungry, he noticed a small owl sitting outside of his window. He immediately recognized it as Pigwidgeon, Ron's small fluff ball of an owl. "_Ah, he must be writing about my stay"_ Harry thought as he crossed to the window and let Pig in. After removing the parchment, he sat at his desk to read it, and Pig swooped down onto the desk as well. "_He must want a quick reply"_ Harry thought, and then he opened the letter. It was short, and looked even more like scribbles than Ron's normal hand writing. Why was he in such a hurry? Harry quickly read over it. And again. And a third time.

"WHAT?" he finally exclaimed, before reading the note again. Hermione did _what?_ Hermione was quiet, sweet, a bit nerdy, but he could not wrap his mind around Hermione doing something as _sexy_ as sending a picture like _that_ to Ron! Whoa! Harry finally laughed out loud, and sat down the letter. Pig tilted his head and chirped at Harry. "Wha-hahaha-what do you-hahaha- waant?" Harry managed to choke out, catching the owl's gaze. After he sobered from what was the largest amount of laughing he had had in quite some time, he grabbed his quill, ink, and parchment to reply. He had to think it over awhile, but finally managed to write something.

Ron,

Whoa! Where did that come from?! I mean, from Hermione of all people?! But as for what to say.. You fancy her, right? I mean, I know you've never said... and she irritates you sometimes, but you do fancy her. So just write something nice, I guess. Because she must fancy you. Oh! and add a heart. Like she did, you know. And maybe not talk about the picture so much. I mean by all means mention it, but don't just talk about that.

Yeah...

Well on another note, I'm coming to your place soon- July 17th, that was what Dumbledore said at least. I guess you all probably know. Can't wait to see you, its bloody dull here, and I nearly cursed my Uncle Vernon the other day.

Harry.

Harry chuckled once again as he secured his letter to Pig's tiny leg, as he hopped around, and sent him off. "_Wow... Hermione.." _he thought. And as he laid back on his bed with some of his summer homework, he thought "_I wonder what Ginny is doing..."_

* * *

Benjamin was excited for this new journey, and for new opportunities. Going to Hogwarts would definitely give him a better challenge in the subjects he excelled in, something his parents couldn't always offer. They were brilliant but he knew he had odd strengths, not quite what his father's were, and his mother was often busy with her diplomatic duties.

He would definitely miss his family, and the adventures they had so often. But it wasn't goodbye for good, he knew they'd be coming to England as well, once they had their affairs in order and his mother could relocate to the English Ministry. For now, as he often had been in the past, he was with the Forests, his family's dearest friends. He had known Emma and Indy Forest since he was a child, and of course their daughter, Olive, as well. They had been fast friends from the time they could walk.

For now they were readying to leave their camp in Egypt, he'd been disapparated over the previous day by his father who was also dropping off a sample of a new core the Forest's were currently starting research on. Olive was nervous, though she tried to hide it. Benjamin was pumped.

"Olive, think of all the new butts we're going to see! I can work on my catologue," Benjamin said to her while they were packing away from Emma and Indy.

With a laugh, and a smile that broke through the tension in her forehead, Olive responded, "Benj, you are too much! Probably don't just bust out with your Butt Book to the first people you meet."

"Olive, I got this! You know I'm not just gonna go up to a witch and be like, 'Can I put your butt in my book?' You gotta be smooth!" He bantered.

A nice butt was something outside his studies Benjamin could really appreciate. He couldn't help but notice all the butts around him. Olive had a nice round booty, her thin waist accentuated it, though he rarely stared at it. Emma's behind however was excellent. He could see why Indy would marry her for sure. Damn that woman! It was wide and round and pleasantly plump, perfect for a great squeeze! But he was getting away from himself, back to the task at hand; talking about Hogwarts and easing Olive's mind.

"What do you think its going to be like?" Ben asked

"Well, my mom's told me loads of stories from when she went and has mentioned a few people. Dumbledore was Headmaster in her day as well, and she says he's a kind man.. so there's that. But there is so much! The school is HUGE and there are all kinds of secret pathways. Its going to be a change for sure.." Olive replied.

That's was excited Benjamin. He was always up for a new adventure, so was Olive really, but she liked having the comfort of home to look forward to at the end of the day. He had the wanderlust spirit of his father, and the need to seek out more knowledge that Olive's parents had. He would often sit up late with them when his father was away on a particularly dangerous hunt and left him there for his "safety" and talk about legends of the origins of magic, or theories on this or that. It was something he looked forward to, something he would probably miss. But Hogwarts held the potential for professors to have such conversations with.

"Okay, kiddo's, are you ready? Its about time we head out, we actually have a schedule to keep to this time. Let's see how well that works out, haha!" Indy called to them from outside.

"Yeah, dad, we're coming," Olive replied, turning to Benjamin. "Alright, this is it, let's do this!"

Outside the tent, with a wave of his wand Indy dismantled and packed it into his very full and magically extended rucksack. "Okay, got a bit of a walk ahead of us, and then a few apparitions. Better start now."

Emma levitated a stack of 3 trunks they couldn't fit in any of their bags and had them float behind them as they walked, each of them with a rucksack on their back, the Egyptian sun just beginning to set.

Indy and Emma ended up walking ahead of Benjamin and Olive, chatting no doubt about a new theory they had for work, or perhaps what lay ahead of them in England.

Olive and he chatted over the usual topics, new books, shared interests, and, then of course, some favorite memories.

"Remember when they made your wand, Benji? Wasn't that day great? It was the first time I'd seen them repurpose a core like that."

"Yeah, I do. It was great.." Benjamin patted his wand through the fabric of his jeans. It was a unique wand for sure, and he didn't particularly like telling people he didn't know well about it. They might get the wrong idea. The core that now resided in his 8" ebony wand was once part of a wand that belonged to his great grandfather. It was a scale from a basilisk he had killed on a journey, searching for some other creature no doubt, his father wasn't the first in the family to hunt magical creatures for a living. His great grandfather had so much pride in killing that basilisk he had a new wand crafted for himself with the scale, and it had served him well. When Benjamin reached 11 and it was time for him to get a wand, he told his father he'd like his great grandfather's. It was beyond use now, years of sitting in a trunk, and years of hard work before that had all but rotted the wood. But Indy and Emma said they could salvage the core. And so they did. Basilisk cores had the reputation of being dark, very dark, and for good reason. They were usually drawn to dark wizards. But Indy and Emma always said it wasn't the wand, but what the wielder did with it that truly decided its allegiances.

He, and all that mattered to him, knew that he would never succumb to dark magic, it just wasn't who he was. But those who didn't know the story, or know him might come to the wrong conclusions. It was just better off not to discuss this at school, he thought.

"Olive.. probably don't mention that story to other people.." he said quitely

"Why?"

"Because they might think.. they might not understand. You know how people are, with that they think they know. With their associations. I know who I am, but I'd rather not get the snot dueled out of me because someone thinks I'm in allegiance with some dark ass magic using mother fucker."

"Hah, yeah okay. But I don't really give a bloody dragon testicle what they say about me. Come on, lets catch up, I think its about time we finally stop walking, and apparate somewhere"

"_Damn!" _he thought "_how long was I sitting here thinking about that shit!" _the moon was in the center of the sky and the stars were in full shine.

"Okay guys! Come on, come on, I think we're clear to apparate now. Far enough away from anyone else that we wont disturb wards or Ministry establishments. Olive, you'll side along with your mother and good ol' Benji with me. Lets go, hup hup." And with that, they began in earnest their journey to England.

* * *

Snape sat waiting in a chair before the headmaster's desk. He had received an owl to come and meet with Dumbledore, and had immediately flooed over. He couldn't remember a time Dumbledore had kept him waiting, but it didn't bother him much. Just as he had been thinking this, Dumbledore entered his study.

"Ah, good, Severus, you're here!" spoke Dumbledore as he closed the gap between the two of them, and taking Snape's hand into his. "There are a few things we need to discuss, but before we begin, I believe you have a question for me," he said, with a smile, as he seated himself behind his desk, and leaned forward.

Snape, even after being a student with Dumbledore as headmaster, and working under him for many years, still had never become quite use to the way Dumbledore seemed to be able to read one's mind with one glance of his sharp blue eyes. "Uh, yes, Headmaster, I had hoped you summoned me with news of your meeting with the Minister." Snape said, not feeling the need to actually ask how it all went, no doubt Dumbledore would tell him.

"Marvelous, he cannot dispute Sirius's innocents. We have a court date set up in just a matter of days, and he wants to keep it out of the news for at least a little while. And rest assured, Severus, he had no idea whose memory it was. Lucky you saw this from behind that door, or I would have had to answer why one of my professors was in the room.," Dumbledore recounted, and then popped a lemon drop from the bowl on his desk into his whiskery mouth.

Snape's face had pinched uncomfortably at the mention of Sirius's name. He could not believe he had agreed to help prove his innocence. That arrogant show off had caused many problems in his life, and he wasn't keen on forgetting them. "Headmaster, I wondered... you said that it was absolutely _necessary_ to prove Black's innocence? There was no way to avoid- well to accomplish your goals with out him?" he said in an uneven voice.

"Ah, Severus, still that grudge, even now? Well, yes, it was quite important, to Harry as well."

"Headmaster, some things are not forgotten as easily as one would think.. With out apology, I cannot forgive Black, and I doubt he'll ever give me one. I will tolerate myself being the cause of his freedom if it has a greater cause, but that is all," Snape said in a stone cold voice, looking slightly to the left of Dumbledore at the shelf behind him, unwilling to make eye contact.

"Very well, Severus. As we are somewhat on the subject of Harry, I will go ahead and address my next topic of discussion. I am aware that you only accept students who have made an outstanding on their O.W.L.'s but, I would like you to accept Harry in as well. You'll understand, he had quite a difficult time last year with Voldemort rising. He made an Exceeds Expectations, and only a few points from reaching an O. If he fails to have outstanding work in your class you may kick him out, but he has an aspiration to become an Auror and he'll need N.E.W.T potions."

During Dumbledore's pitch, Snape's insides had boiled slightly. "But headmaster, I've had the boy for five years. For five years I've had to listen to the voice of James and watch all his arrogant ways from this boy! For five years I've had to stair into the ey-"

"Severus, if you find yourself incapable of teaching a student, no matter who his parents are, or rather where, then I will have to find a replacement. I will not tolerate this. I do not wish to replace you, my dear friend, you are the best potions teacher Hogwarts has seen in many years, and a good man, but I must think of my students..." Dumbledore had started with a slightly raised voice, but ended in something near a whisper.

Snape glanced out the window, collecting his emotions, stowing them away. He clasped and unclasped his hands in his lap for a minute or so, and after inhaling deeply, he turned to look Dumbledore in the eye. "I will not allow a _child_ to dislodge me from what is the closest to a home I have ever had. So, I will do as you ask, only I wonder... the Defense Against the Dark Arts post is still open, is it not?.."

"I'm sorry, Severus, but I have plans for that position," Dumbledore said kindly. The moment it had taken Snape to collect himself had touched Dumbledore, as had him calling Hogwarts home. He wished he could do more for this unhappy, yet brave man.

"Ah, well that is truly too bad, I believe I could make a wonderful Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, having had first hand experience with them... On another note, Headmaster, as I assume, you do not want me to lose the trust of the Dark Lord. I assume I will need to be out periodically through out the year, and the students no doubt will need someone who is trained well in potions to fill in for me while I'm away," Snape said in his usual cold drawling voice.

"Yes, Severus, I will take that into account and find someone... perhaps Horace Slughorn..." Dumbledore trailed off.

"...Yes.. Well, I'd better be on my way, if there is nothing more." Snape said, once again glancing out the window.

"There are two more matters to discuss, Severus, and then I will allow you to go and enjoy the rest of your vacation. The first is in regards to the letter you sent me. The second matter related to... well we will get there."

"Ah, I had nearly forgotten. I assume you would like me to keep an eye on Draco, then?" Snape said, glancing into Dumbledore's eyes, and then down, as he considered the full extent of the Unbreakable Vow he had made.

"Yes, that will do. And we mustn't let the boy do what has been ordered of him. I am afraid I will have to ask far too much of you this year Severus. What we wont allow Draco to do, you must..." Dumbledore starred at the top of Snape's head as he was looking down.

" I understand, Headmaster. I would like to discuss that further, some other time though, perhaps. I am rather tired.. The second matter you would like to discuss?" Snape glanced up at this last sentence, hoping to leave as soon as he could, his mind was wandering back to the past.

Taking in the look behind Severus's dark eyes, Dumbledore softened. With a yawn, he spoke, with a small smile on his lips. "Ah, that... well it can wait. I'm tired myself, I have been on business a lot recently and could use a good rest. I'll contact you soon, I'm sure, and we can work through some start of term things, and discuss this last matter then."

Snape looked directly at Dumbledore and gave him a relieved look. "Yes, that will work nicely. I'll be on my way then, Headmaster." With that, Snape stood and walked to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of floo powder, threw it into the fire, and left in a flash of green flames. He had had too much for one day.

* * *

Harry's letter had arrived at the Weasley's around noon. Ron had read it, and sighed. It helped very little and he couldn't think about Harry visiting at the moment. He needed to write something to Hermione before she thought he didn't like her. Did he like her? "_Of course I like her!"_ he thought to himself. "_How can I not? She's perfect! But why would she like me?"_ he pondered.

After the Department of Mysteries and not being sure of Hermione's recovery at first, he'd cursed himself for never letting her know she was very dear to him. I mean, blimey, not only was she one of his absolute best friends, but he fancied her! And what had he done in the past? Argued and picked on her. He was just used to that. That's how he and his siblings acted and they all knew they loved one another. But he would have to try. She had opened the door that he'd been too afraid to open since their second year, and he would have to do his best to keep it open.

He decided to just write something. Get it over and done with, send it, and it would be over with. "_Writing is the hard part really," _he thought. "_It'll be easier just to say stuff when I'm with her. It'll just come out better than writing it down."_

"_Just be honest and make sure she knows you feel the same.. yeah.. that'll work.. probably"_

With this, he picked up the parchment he had written Hermione's name on earlier, and began to scribble out a message, pausing here or there to read over what he had written, or to think of what to say next. He ended up with this

Hermione,

Your, erm, message came as a bit of a shock. But I can't pull my eyes away from that saucy look on your beautiful face. It more or less took my breath away. You know I've always fancied you, and I.. I didn't know you felt the same. I'm sorry if this is short, but I'm bloody well unsure what to write, definitely never thought I'd say this stuff in a letter. Figured it'd be in person. But blimey, hadda' say it now, didn't I? Not like I could act all cool and nonchalant after you made the move... Glad you did though, if I tell the truth, doubt I'da ever gotten the courage up to tell you on my own.

On a different note, Harry's coming down on the 17th, you should come around that time too. I'd really like to see you, you know.. face to face.

-Ron

He added a heart at the end, and quickly tied it to Pigs leg and before he could change his mind, sent him on his way. "_Blimey" _he thought. He stood and walked in a circle. He then took a deep breath and said out loud, "You sent it, you told her, its over. Just relax, not much to do now." And with this, he exhaled, and vacated his room, in the hopes that someone would want a game of Quidditch.

* * *

Finally. Traveling long distances with ALL of their stuff, plus all of Benjamin's was definitely not what Olive thought of as a good time. Hopefully there would be some food where they were staying. Olive looked around. "Mum, are you sure this is right? Looks like a muggle street to me..." They were standing in the middle of a little park across the street from some old, run down looking apartments. She had learned that looks often deceived in her life, but she really hoped that if this was right, it was better on the inside..

"Hmm, lets see.." her mother rummaged in her pockets, and pulled out a scrap of parchment "Grimmauld Place, yeah this is it. Number 12"

"Whoa," muttered Olive as the building seemed to expand, and Number 12 emerged from between 11 and 13.

"That's pretty sweet!" said Benji walking forward, her parents following.

"Ah.. yeah.. They're expecting us, right? Because... That'd be awkward.. " Olive said

"Yeah, Dumbledore told us to come here. Haven't seen him since the old days, it'll be nice to see some old Order members for sure!" her mother said happily.

Olive had heard very few stories about her mother's days in the rebel group fighting against Voldemort's power back 16 years ago. Longer than that really. But she could tell she was excited. Her father, who had heard more, but who was from America and had never really been an Order member looked excited and mildly anxious.

With a knock on the aged black door they waited on a cracked stoop. After a few moments the door opened. At first Olive didn't see anyone, but after glancing down she noticed an aged House elf looking up at them all.

"Masters Sirius and Dumbledore have been expecting you. Kreacher will show you the way, please." And with that he backed away from the door and started walking down a dark hallway.

"Weird," muttered Benji next to her

"Hush!" Olive said, although she had to agree.

"What, I'm just saying, I've never met a house elf before. I didn't think most people kept them anymore. Guess maybe I was wrong."

They followed the little elf, Kreacher was it?, down a set of stairs and into a bright cozy kitchen that seemed to ease a bit of the tension they all felt. It smelled pleasantly of coffee and cinnamon buns. At a long scrubbed wooden table sat two men. One was decidedly younger than the other, with shoulder length dark hair and a kind, handsome face. The other had sharp blue eyes behind half moon spectacles that sat on his long crooked nose, and even longer white hair and a matching beard. This man she recognized a Albus Dumbledore. As she took this in the elf spoke.

"Please Misses and Misters, sit. Kreacher will bring a spot of breakfast." And so, laying aside their bags they joined the two men at the table, all awkwardly saying hello as they went.

"I trust you had a swift and safe journey?" said Albus in a somewhat dry, yet somehow lively voice.

"Swift enough once we stopped walking through that desert! I still have sand in my shoes," said Benjamin before anyone else answered.

Dumbledore laughed, and the rest of them chuckled. "I'm Albus Dumbledore, soon to be your headmaster at school," he said.

"Benjamin Crosely, nice to meet you sir," said Ben with out missing a step, sticking out his hand.

"Ah, yes, Mister Crosely. If I do recall properly you have quite the impressive scores in Arthimacy and Runes, enough to rival even the brightest at our school," Dumbledore said. "And you, dear?"

"Olive, I'm Olive Forest, sir, nice to meet you," Olive extended her hand to shake her future headmaster's. Finally feeling calm as she usually did.

"Of course, of course. I think you'll enjoy our potions courses, you will be pursuing that N.E.W.T. I'm right in thinking, yes?"

"Yes, sir, definitely," Olive replied confidently.

"Albus, its been years, so excellent to see you!" her mother said, smiling warmly and stretching out her arms to hug Dumbledore. "This is my husband, Indigo."

He father laughed gruffly at his full name and said "Indy, please, my parents were a bit.. how should I say, into the crowd at Woodstock. A pleasure to meet you sir, I've heard so many stories from dear Emma about you."

"Haha! Of course, Indy, lovely to meet you, and wonderful to see you again, Emma! I've missed you. Now, let me introduce my friend and we can delve into breakfast and catching up. This is Sirius Black, whom you no doubt heard a decent amount about back in the original Order of the Phoenix, but I think I'm correct in saying you never met face to face. He has so graciously decided to play host to you all as you look for a more permanent home here."

"Hello, lovely to meet you all, I'm sure we'll be fast friends," said Sirius with a smile. "And this is my elf, and dear friend, Kreacher. You'll no doubt get to know him as well. He'll be around, joining us for meals and the like."

Everyone said hello to them both again and the group relaxed into a more normal conversation. Olive and Benji chatted, and dug into some cinnamon buns which, Olive had to say, were excellent.

"So, Emma, do tell, what have you been doing abroad for these last years? I think I'm right in saying you didn't linger in England after the Potters death?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Ah no, sure didn't. Indy and I wanted to be together of course, me working with the Order and being away was difficult, Olive being so little. So we decided to pursue our shared interest of wandlore, mostly living throughout Africa. Over the years, we've perfected our wand making process and have been making headway into discovering new cores, and stabilizing those once thought too volatile to be used. Exploring the bounds of what is possible in wand making has been our main focus," mom said

"And of course a few things on the side," her father added with a chuckle. "But really we have made tremendous progress. There is so much more out there than just Phoenix feather, Unicorn hair, and Dragon heartstring cores! No offense to Olivander, then man is brilliant, but if we stay stagnant and content with the mundane or easily obtainable, then we will never know what could be possible from our magic," he finished passionately

"Hmm yes, very intriguing. I'd like to hear more for sure. It's nice to hear there are always those of us curious in pushing the bounds of what is known, in search of more." Dumbledore said with an inquisitive smile.

"Exactly! For example..." her mother began launching into an explanation of a new process they had been working on for making a new type of wood. Olive stopped listening, having heard this multiple times.

"Already talking about work," she said with a chuckle to Benjamin.

"Of course, of course," he laughed with her.

"So, you two will be attending Hogwarts this year?" asked Sirius from across the table from them.

"Sure will!" Benjamin said "Any words of advice?"

"Haha, work hard on your studies, but keep in mind, there is always time for mischief with friends. You'll meet my godson while you're there. He knows a thing or two about mischief, learned it from the best," he said with a sort of sad smile.

Olive thought she might like this man, as she watched him join animatedly into her parents' conversation, asking a question here or there. This would definitely be an interesting year.

* * *

At a quarter to four an exhausted looking Pigwidgeon arrived at Hermione's bedroom window. She had been sitting at her desk, her fingers knotted in her hair, tapping her foot rapidly, trying so hard to focus on the book in front of her. That had been her entire day, books lay open on her bed, the floor, and at her desk. She hadn't been able to focus on any of them for long. She had even taken a jog. What was taking him so long!

As soon as she heard the tap of a beak against her window, she had shot up from her desk, nearly knocking the chair over, and sprinted to the window. Pig barely got inside before she hastily snatched the letter from his leg. He gave an irritated chirp and at this she paused and apologized to the owl, giving him a few treats.

After Pig was satisfied, she plopped down on her bed to read the letter. She opened it and then paused. "_What if I don't like what it says"_ she thought, but the suspense was killing her. She pulled it up to her face and read.

Crookshanks had hopped up on the bed, and sat purring as he watched her. When she pulled the letter away from her face after reading it through maybe six times, she had a large, goofy grin on her face. Crookshanks tilted his head and meowed at her. She grabbed him suddenly and held his face up to hers. "Oh! Crookshanks! He said my face was beautiful! Me! Beautiful! and he said he fancied me! Look he drew a heart! and he wants me to come visit! Not that I don't normally, but oh, can you believe it!" Crookshanks gave a disdainful meow at being held up by his armpits, so close to Hermione's face, but she pulled him into a crushing hug anyways. After she relaxed her arms he ran off to his bed on the other side of the room. She laughed.

"_He didn't think it was weird. He likes me.. " _she thought to herself over and over. She had been cursing herself for almost 24 hours for no reason.

She wasn't used to being so... out of her head. So emotional. With the peace at mind that all was well, and that she had indeed made the right choice, she felt herself again. And relaxed.

With a renewed sense of joy, she stood up and stretched. Thinking she should probably tidy up her room. But then a thought struck her to write Harry and see how he was. Pig could drop it by on his way back to Ron tomorrow. She sat down at her desk to write him, smiling and humming to herself. What a wonderful day.

* * *

"_Having laughter and guests to liven up this old place sure was nice" _thought Sirius. When Dumbledore approached him with the idea of letting the Forests stay until they could set up shop somewhere, he had hesitated slightly. He'd been solitary for so many years that having strangers around seemed somewhat daunting, but in the end he decided it would be for the best.

The kids, Olive and Benjamin, did make him think of Harry even more than usual. He missed him. But the semester would start soon enough.. and Dumbledore insisted he had some important matters for Sirius to take care of, and it would be best if Harry didn't yet know he was still among the living.

Having them all around definitely took his mind off the trial, which he had to admit made him nervous to some degree. He knew he should definitely be found innocent, but some part of him couldn't help but think this was all a trick.

Emma and Indy were definitely an interesting sort. He hoped to get to know them better. To have more friends again would be nice, especially those who sought to better the future for magical kind in any way. It had been a rough couple of decades for the magical world for sure.

"_Best I get some sleep.. So much to do tomorrow," _thought Sirius


	3. Chapter 3 New wand new life

_A/N: Sorry it took me a tad longer to update this time. Heres a nice decent length chapter for you all, with some new content and a few changes. Any content that had been changed has been because it just felt better in the story. Would really appreciate hearing some feed back, be nice to know there are some readers out there and all. Should have more up with in the week. Enjoy :] -C _

* * *

The sun was filtering through the curtains of the room Sirius Black had slept in as a teen. Even now he couldn't believe he had been waking up in this room again for over a year. He lay in bed, starring at the pattern the filtered light made on the dark wood floorboards. He hadn't been able to actually sleep much that night, he'd tossed back and forth in the familiar bed, starring at the walls and sighing. He couldn't decide why he was so nervous. He knew he was going to be found innocent, the trial was simply a show, it had to be had, but it wasn't necessary. Maybe he was worried about how much the proceedings would bring back unpleasant memories, the years of rotting in Azkaban, years knowing the man who killed his best friends, his family, was walking free, or that he could have saved them if he had of insisted on being Secret Keeper. The prospect of all of this caused Sirius to simply groan and roll over rather than stand and get up. With his head under a pillow, he mumbled, "I should get up. Its a good day... _"_ Yet he laid there, still. Eventually, hearing the strike of the grandfather clock in the hall, he rolled onto his back. After a moment, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. He glanced around, his eyes pausing over the photos hanging on the walls of his teenaged self with James, Remus, and even Lily in a few. With this, he squared his shoulders and let his bare feet touch the ground and stood. With a long stretch, he made his way from his room and down the stairs to the kitchen where Kreacher was humming and making breakfast. Sirius paused, leaning against the door jam to watch him. He wished he could feel as carefree as Kreacher seemed to at this moment. With a sigh, he stepped into the room, and walked over to sit at the table. "Morning, Kreacher," he said quietly.

"Ah! Master Sirius is up. Good, Kreacher worried Master would over sleep. Kreacher made Master's favorite, cinnamon toast and bacon." With that Kreacher laid a platter stacked with cinnamon toast and a plate with a large amount of bacon on it.

The aroma of breakfast raised his spirits some what, enough to make him smile. "Thank you, Kreacher. I actually didn't sleep, I wonder if you could make some coffee? I could use some." Sirius took several pieces of toast and some bacon strips before beginning to tuck in.

"Yes, Master," Kreacher said, and with a snap of his fingers, a steaming cup of coffee appeared before Sirius. He then took a piece of toast himself and sat.

"Kreacher," Sirius said through a mouthful of toast, "when did Dumbledore say he'd be arriving? Have our guests been up yet today?"

"Ah.. Well, I believe he said right about-" Kreacher began and then there was a knock at the door. A single, loud thump. After clearing his throat, Kreacher continued, "now. And not yet, Master Sirius, it's early yet."

Sirius looked up at the doorway and then down at his bed crumpled pajamas, bare feet, and roughly swallowed his mouthful of toast. "Could you let him in please, Kreacher? I'm, uh.. well I should finish my breakfast."

Kreacher smiled and nodded and a moment later, Kreacher reentered with Dumbledore following directly behind him. Sirius had taken another large bite and glanced up, his mouth very full, crumbs in his beard, and waved at Dumbledore. He swallowed again and spoke thickly to his guest. "Morning, Albus. Would you like some cinnamon toast and bacon? Its quite good."

Dumbledore gave him a crinkle-eyed smile and joined him at the table. "Sounds lovely, Sirius. We will need to be going in an hour or so, of course, you know, so we had better eat quickly." He then took a bite of cinnamon toast. "Ah! Kreacher, you have out done yourself," he said with a broad smile.

The two mostly ate in silence after that. Kreacher munched on some toast as he cleaned, humming between bites. Eventually, Sirius stood and announced he was going to go get dressed. After reaching the stairs, Sirius paused, sighed, and went back to the kitchen. "Albus.. what exactly should I wear? Something short of dress robes?.." Sirius asked, fidgeting.

"Haha, Sirius, just dress as you normally would, for, say, work. Don't worry," Dumbledore continued to chuckle at the worry etched on every inch of Sirius's face. Sirius then left and hurried up the stairs.

Thirty minutes later, a dressed Sirius and a well fed Dumbledore stood in the sitting room of the Black manor, ready to leave for the Ministry of Magic. Kreacher said he'd make some lunch and have it ready for all of them by the time Dumbledore and Sirius got back from the hearing. His guests had awoken by this point and wished him luck, Emma even giving Sirius a hug. That helped his nerves a bit. Sirius stepped into the fireplace and threw down a fistful of floo powder and called out "Ministry of Magic" and with a flash of green vanished from the mouth of the fire pit, and felt the sickeningly quick passage through the floo network, like being squeezed through a pipe meant for much smaller items. He then found himself, with a gasp of fresh air, in a fire place in the entry way of the Ministry of Magic. A moment later, Dumbledore too came out of the fire place, looking much more dignified than most of those around him emerging from their perspective fireplaces.

"When are we meeting him again?" Sirius asked Dumbledore, nervously glancing up at a clock hanging near the pair.

"We have time Sirius. We're hear, we just need to get to the Minister's office and down to the court room with him. Ah, Kingsley, good day!" Dumbledore called to a passing wizard. Sirius waved, and glanced around nervously. He hadn't been around so many witches and wizards, in the open for a very long time. He was glad nobody had recognized him or tried to attack him. He had been sure that there would be some kind of uproar, but perhaps the Minister had made his staff aware of the situation, or maybe everyone was simply so busy with damage control that they where not very much aware of their surroundings.

Dumbledore and Sirius made their way to the far end of the atrium to the security desk. The Security Wizard asked them to present their wands for registration. "Here is mine, my name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, and my friend here does not have a wand to present you with." Dumbledore handed over his wand after giving his information, the security wizard measured and examined it and quickly handed it back. Dumbledore gave the man a kind smile and began moving toward the elevator, Sirius gave the Security Wizard an awkward smile and rushed after Dumbledore. The wand he had borrowed prior to the Department of Mysteries had indeed broken in all the kerfuffle. He did not like being wandless, but perhaps he'd get his old wand back today. After a quiet elevator ride and a short walk, Sirius found himself outside of a large door. On this door was a plaque that read "Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour". Dumbledore smiled at Sirius and gave the door one loud knock.

A muffled "come in" was heard from within the office. Dumbledore pushed the door open and walked in as if he visited every day, Sirius followed nervously behind. A voice in the back of his mind didn't like this, what if Scrimgeour had just set this up and planned on arresting him again? What if things didn't go well in the court room, even though there was really nothing to debate, but what if he was found guilty again and carted off to Azkaban? Would Dumbledore allow it? Or help him escape? Things he'd thought hundreds of times before, but they kept coming unbidden back into his head. Scrimgeour was looking down at his desk at some paperwork, scribbling out a final line of what ever he was writing during Sirius's silent mental panic, and before he could continue freaking out, Scrimgeour spoke. "Good day, Albus," he nodded at Dumbledore, his eyes pinned on Sirius. "And hello to you, Sirius. Doing well I hope?" he said with an intensely interested stare.

"Ye-" Sirius paused and cleared his throat, "Yes sir. Nice to meet you." He extended a hand, trying to keep it from shaking as he fought to push his previous thoughts from his mind. He wasn't usually they type of man to be scared or timid in anyway, but the thought of being locked back up in that horrible place again sent shivers down his spine.

"Yes, quite," Scrimgeour said, and then turned to address Dumbledore, this time his golden eyes starring straight into his eyes. "We'd best get down to the court room. Afterward we can discuss the other aspects of Sirius's freedom. Let's go."

"We could have met you in the court room, Rufus. It might have saved time," Dumbledore said as they exited the room. Sirius awkwardly walking behind them, feeling a bit like a child trailing after parents.

"Ah, but I wanted to enter together, Albus. And also to let Sirius know that I am one hundred percent on his side." With this, Scrimgeour gave Sirius a smile over his shoulder. The rest of the elevator ride down to the court rooms was silent, the walk down to the correct door Dumbledore and Scrimgeour had a conversation that Sirius couldn't focus on. He was too busy taking in his surroundings. He had begun to feel calm, but that was until they reached a large, black set of double doors. As soon as his eyes reached them, he stopped in his tracks. Flashes of his last "trial" ran behind his eyelids. There must have been an evident look of panic on his normally self-assure face, because Dumbledore gently grabbed his shoulder and stepped in front of him. "Sirius, relax. You've waited for this day for many years. Not only for freedom, but to be cleared of the accusation that you are the cause of the murders of your best friends. Nothing bad is going to happen. Relax, take a breath, and let's get this over with."

Dumbledore's words struck home, and Sirius took a deep breath and smiled. He was not going to start fretting over what could happen again. He'd already spent too much time worrying about that day. With that, Scrimgeour pushed open both doors, making somewhat of a grand entrance into the nearly empty court room. A small, fragile framed mousey witch sat at a small table to keep record of the proceedings and a witch and a wizard sat on either side of the seat that was obviously meant for the Minister himself. The wizard was wearing a set of dark bottle-green robes, upon his slightly lined face sat a scruffled beard, his hair was neat and short in comparison. The witch had strikingly long warm chocolate curls that brushed her waist, and large brown eyes that seemed to sparkle even in the dim light, she wore a light chartreuse set of robes. All three of the people in the room stood at the entrance of Sirius, Dumbledore, and the Minister. They all had pleasant looks on their faces, especially the witch with brown eyes, she wore a large smile on her pink lips. The Minister made his way up to his seat and Sirius sat in the chair in the middle of the room, making sure to smile at each of the people in the room. Dumbledore summoned a chair and sat next to Sirius in a show of support, also because it would have been odd for him to go back and sit in the empty gallery.

"Good morning, good morning!" called Scrimgeour as he took his seat. "Sirius, Albus, this is Hazel Byrne, from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," he gestured to the brown-eyed witch. "This is Edgar Moore, a single member of the Wizengamot, here to assess with me," nodding toward the wizard in bottle-green robes. "And this lovely witch is Eileen Glen, she will be keeping record for us today." a final gesture to the mousey woman sitting at the small table.

Sirius had never heard of any of them, but he smiled and nodded at each introduction, and once Scrimgeour had finished, he voiced a greeting himself. "Good morning," they all had nodded back at him and he felt a bit more relaxed.

"We all know why we have gathered today, and we are all aware of the charges held against Sirius Black. We will hear testimony of the actual events that took place as well as he knows them from Sirius. We will see proof of his innocence with our own eyes and also hear testimony from our own Albus Dumbledore, then we will deliberate and give our verdict. Is that clear for everyone?" There was a unanimous nod, and Scrimgeour continued, "Good then, well without further ado, Sirius, please tell us anything and everything you feel is relevant to proving your innocence." Edgar cleared his throat, hoping to voice that this was a rather broad way to allow someone to give testimony, but Scrimgeour ignored him.

"Oh, um, well," Sirius wasn't expecting being asked to speak quite so quickly. In fact, he hadn't even considered how to word and put together his account of the events that he had been framed for. He took a moment, a deep breath, and then just started to speak. "James and I had been best friends since our Hogwarts years, and once Lily and he started dating, she had become a close friend as well. Once we knew Voldemort was coming after them, we knew we'd have to set up a Fidelius Charm on their home, or at least Professor Dumbledore suggested it, and it sounded like a great plan. It was, of course, very important for them to be safe. They couldn't just go fight the same way anymore, they had little Harry at home. Anyways, right away, James suggested I be Secret Keeper for them, and I, of course, agreed. I knew no one could ever get that information out of me. But then the thought that Voldemort would know I was Secret Keeper came about, and James feared for my safety as well as his families and so he suggested maybe we could use Wormtail- um Peter Pettigrew, because no one would suspect that, and we had no reason to doubt his allegiance to our side of the war. And so the Fidelius was set up and Pettigrew was Secret Keeper. Not long after that, the Potters were... The Potters were murdered," he paused, glancing down, controlling his emotions, and then carried on. "Everyone thought I had been made Secret Keeper, the way we wanted it, but now it appeared that I had given them away. I knew who had really given them away and I went looking for Pettigrew, and when I found him, being the coward he was, he killed all the muggles near us, cut off his ring finger, and transformed into his animagus form, a rat, and ran away. We all had mastered the transfiguration to become animagi in our school years, and none of us were registered so the Ministry had no idea to look for a rat, and no one was listening to me, because I was the horrible wizard who betrayed his friends, killed another friend, and a bunch of muggles.." Sirius stopped talking and looked up. Eileen was still scratching her quill quickly across the parchment, but Hazel, Scrimgeour, and Edgar where starring at him, all of them with a degree of pity and sadness in their eyes.

After a pause, Scrimgeour spoke. "Well, thank you for that testimony. Now, for the visual proof. Albus, if you can please bring the vile up here." He pulled a pensieve from beneath the desk he sat at, placing it on the desk top. Dumbledore rose fluidly and crossed the room with a vile in his hand. "I was able to withdraw this from a Death Eater, it clearly shows Peter Pettigrew, aged, very much alive, and with a metallic hand that replaced his hand with the missing finger. He is speaking with Voldemort." With this, Dumbledore uncorked the vile, poured the silvery substance into the pensieve, and stepped back. Scrimgeour, Hazel, and Edgar leaned forward over the pensieve. A few minutes later they sat back up, Dumbledore withdrew the memory from the pensieve with his wand, re-corking the vile, and walked back to his seat. "Good then," Scrimgeour started. "Well then, Dumbledore, anything you want to add?"

Dumbledore drew a deep breath before he spoke, and looked at Sirius, Sirius smiled, he knew anything Dumbledore said would only make things better. "I was the one to place the Fidelius charm on the Potter home, Pettigrew was indeed the Secret Keeper. That much is true, and undebatable, so is Sirius's innocence if I may say so. I can speak volumes for his character, anyways. I was Head Master when he was a student at Hogwarts, and though I will not say he didn't get into his fair share of mischief, he was a good student and grew into a great man. He fought hard against Voldemort during the war, and since his.. liberation from Azkaban, he has done a great many things for The Order of the Phoenix in forming a resistance against Voldemort now. He was among those fighting the Death Eaters here, at the ministry itself not too long ago," Dumbledore paused, having made his point, but then decided to add something more. "And what he looks forward to the most, in the event that he is found innocent, is being able to freely spend time with his godson, Harry James Potter."

After another semi awkward pause, Scrimgeour spoke again. "Well, I have come to a decision myself, but I would of course like to hear what my colleagues think. Hazel?"

Hazel Byrne took a long look into Sirius's dark eyes, and then turned back to Scrimgeour to speak. "I find that the evidence gives overwhelming proof of innocence, as well does his demeanor. Mr. Black does not give me the impression of being a murderer, nor someone who would turn on friends." She finished with a smile directed at Sirius. He smiled back brightly, thinking to himself "_I really like that witch, she's rather pleasant"_

"And you, Edgar?" Scrimgeour asked the bristly faced man.

"I remember the original trial, Mr. Black", Edgar spoke directly to Sirius. "I was present in the gallery, watching the proceedings. I will agree that it was quite hastened and not fair to you. However, previous to today, I had never doubted your guilt. Speaking with you in person makes me question your guilt, but does not alone prove your innocence to me. If this memory wasn't made available to us, I would not find you innocent. However, since it is and I can see for myself you could not have murdered Pettigrew, I too believe your innocence. However, if you ever come into questioning for something else suspicious, I will not blink before sentencing you to Azkaban for life." On this note Sirius looked back at Scrimgeour.

"I, too, find Sirius Black undoubtedly innocent. And so, Mr. Black, you are free to go. That will be all." With that Hazel, Eileen, and Edgar stood and left, Sirius shaking each of their hands before they left. Quickly, it was only Scrimgeour, Dumbledore, and himself again, only now Sirius was at ease.

"I'd suggest we just talk matters over here, Dumbledore, but there is a bit of paperwork to be signed in my office. Let's head up quickly and get this all knocked out before lunch!" Scrimgeour said, and then the three of them made their way to his office.

Scrimgeour sat behind his desk with a huff, Sirius in an overstuffed dark leather chair opposite the Minister, and Dumbledore stood glancing about behind a third chair.

"First of all, Mr. Black, I have the rather unfortunate task of informing you your wand was snapped after your imprisonment. I assume you have used others wands here and there as of late, and would of liked to have your own back in your hands, but seeing as the ministry snapped your wand wrongly, we will of course offer to purchase you a new one, from the wand maker of your choice," Scrimgeour said with a sad smile.

Sirius frowned slightly. "Yeah, I assumed it had been snapped, although I'd hoped otherwise. That's not really necessary minister, I can purchase my own."

"I must insist. It's a small portion of the reparations owed to you. If you could sign here, just indicating that you have received the information about your wand," Scrimgeour said, pushing a piece of parchment toward Sirius. He signed, unable to ignore the sad twinge he felt at the idea that he'd never hold his own wand again.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Up next is the discussion of that further reparation you and I spoke of I assume.."

"Yes, of course" Scrimgeour said, looking Sirius in the eye. "As a reparation, I am prepared to help you get a job in what ever field you'd like."

Sirius glanced at Dumbledore, who gave a tiny nod. "That sounds great. Albus had mentioned something like that to me. I was thinking I'd like to teach. Defense Against the Dark Arts, specifically. You see, I was rather good at it in school. I was rather good at all my subjects in school, actually, but I have experience in fighting Dark wizards. And so I spoke to Albus about the position at Hogwarts. He said it is free and that he'd love to have me."

"I would, I almost insist on having him as a teacher, Rufus," Dumbledore said directly after Sirius finished.

"Well... that comes with a great deal more difficulty. The Board of Governors has a say, and the parents might, well given the circumstances..." Scrimgeour trailed off.

"Rufus, you could override the Board, or simply say that you highly recommend Sirius. Its a perfect job, and with the beginning of the school year, you can announce the court proceedings today. That will give you a small amount of time to get things under control here. And sending out a letter from the Ministry to the parents of the students will quell any anxiety about Sirius. Also, you promised to help him get a job in the field of his choosing..." Dumbledore reasoned.

"Yes, well," Scrimgeour began ".. ah, Albus, you drive a hard bargain. Alright, Sirius, or should I say Professor Black, its done. I will speak to the Board later, and get it all set up. Now, before you leave, I just need your signature a few more times."

Sirius smiled and simply signed whatever was placed in front of him. He was free, he had a job, but not only just a job, but the job he wanted. He'd be able to see Harry daily, teach magic, and live in Hogwarts again. Why he had dreaded getting out of bed that morning was beyond him.

* * *

Harry lay on his bed, starring at the ceiling. The midday sun pouring in from the space uncovered by the pillow case he had pinned over it. Parchment and old Daily Prophets covered his desk, empty ink bottles he had pulled from his trunk, and quills were mixed among the papers. Socks, books, and various other objects littered his floor. His open trunk was overflowing with dirty clothes he needed to wash. Hedwig's cage needed cleaning and the sheets had almost fallen off of Harry's bed.

He slowly turned his head to the self-made calendar he had hung on the wall to keep track of the day until Dumbledore would come to get him. He sighed "_four more days" _he thought. The state his room was in bummed him out, but he didn't care enough to simply get up and clean. The happiness he had felt after learning he would be leaving the Dursleys' soon was short lived. Quickly he began dreaming about Sirius's death. He could see it behind his eyelids every time he blinked. It was different than he felt about his parents' absence in his life, he had _known_ Sirius. He had confided in him so often, Sirius had always given him advise, never judged or freaked out. And worse, he had imagined a day he would be able to live with Sirius, or at least near him, something he had never thought he'd have with his parents.

Harry had tried hard for some time to push all these thoughts away, he did not want to feel what he was feeling, or deal with it in anyway, but it was unavoidable. This day he'd been trying to stuff the feelings away again. He knew he'd need to cheer up before he left for Ron's. Although his friend would understand, he'd rather not be in this state while a guest in someone's home. He wasn't having much luck.

To be honest, he hadn't had much luck with anything, including controlling his temper around the Dursleys. However, he had kept what Dumbledore said in the back of his mind at all times, and had decided that avoiding the Dursleys as much as possible was key to his reentry to Hogwarts. Vernon thought much the same thing, but of course, he worded it differently.

One afternoon, Harry had come downstairs simply out of need to escape his room for a bit. Dudley had made a crack about him "moaning about that dead convict", and Harry had turned quickly on his heel, reared his arm back and punched Dudley square in the face before he knew what had hit him. Rather than retaliate Dudley screamed for his father and Vernon had come waddling into the kitchen as fast as his tubby legs could carry him, his large mustache flaring with his quickened intake of breath. Harry turned to face his purple face with a look of disinterest that quickly turned to a sense of fear he felt when he was younger when Vernon opened his mouth and let out a mighty yell. Harry hadn't let on that his courage had melted away, keeping his stance and glaring at Vernon. "Yes?" he said to his walrus of an uncle.

"YOU UNGRATEFUL... HARRY! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! I MAY HAVE TO PUT UP WITH YOU FOR A FEW MONTHS EVERY YEAR BUT THAT DOES NOT GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO ATTACK MY SON! YOU ARE GROUNDED! YOUR ROOM OR OUT OF THIS HOUSE! I WILL NOT TOLERATE SEEING YOU! OUT!" Vernon sputtered at Harry, spit flying everywhere.

Harry had glared at the large purple faced man and turned on his heel, yet again, then walked calmly and slowly up the stairs to his tiny room, kicking some clothes out of the doorway upon his entrance. It irritated him that he had left his wand in his room rather than taking it with him as he normally did.

In retrospect he now thought it was probably a good thing he hadn't had it with him. Although the Ministry of Magic didn't have him blacklisted anymore, he didn't want to step on any toes, especially not any that could snap his wand in half.

Suddenly Hedwig gave an irritated squawk, and it was enough to penetrate Harry's thoughts. He sat up on his bed, cross legged, his arms behind him supporting his tilted posture.

"What do you want?" He croaked. At the sound of his voice his hand flew to his throat. "_damn... I guess I haven't had any water today.."_ he thought. Momentarily distracted, he swung his legs over the bed and made his way to the door, suddenly very thirsty. He listened quickly, not hearing any voices upstairs, he made his way from his room quickly into the bathroom. Immediately, he turned the tap on and tilted his head under the flow of water and slurped greedily. After drinking his fill, he turned the water off, put a hand on either side of the sink and looked up into the mirror. His hair was even more untidy than it usually was, standing up everywhere, doing weird twists and turns. His eyes were puffy and slightly bloodshot. The t-shirt he was wearing (that had once been his cousin's) was twisted awkwardly around his torso, the neck close to exposing one of his shoulders. "_I should probably take a shower... They won't be up here any time soon... they'll be watching TV"_ he thought to himself. Just then, something moved in the mirror. His eyes snapped to the left of his reflected head and focused. Dudley was standing there, bruised, puffy nose and all. "_Great" _Harry thought. "What?" he said, looking into Dudley's reflected eyes.

"I had something to say to you," he said in a gruff voice, looking to the side.

"Yeah? Whats that? Come to insult more of my family for being better people than you'll ever be? Or for doing something they couldn't control, like dying?" Harry shot back, rage in his eyes, still only looking at the reflected Dudley, not wanting to turn.

"No... Look. Will you turn around? Hey!" Dudley said, frustrated and clearly uncomfortable.

Harry slowly turned to face his taller, bulkier cousin. There was no fear in his being, if Dudley was there to beat him, then he would either have to take it or run. "Yes?" he said once facing Dudley head on.

Dudley starred for a second, taking in Harry's rough appearance, and then looked down. "Look, what I said, it wasn't cool. I know that he was.. that you were close to him," he looked up, "and I do have some boundaries now a days. It's not fair to attack someone like that right after someone has died." There was a pause, and a forced change in his voice. "But that doesn't mean I like you. Or your good for nothing parents," he finished, but did not leave.

Harry stood leaning against the sink, trying to take in what his arse of a cousin just said. It was actually.. nice, kind of, as nice as Dudley had ever been. Except for that last part, but that's what Vernon had always taught him to say, so Harry couldn't really blame him there. Finally, Harry spoke. "Yeah.. alright then," he said while looking Dudley straight in the eye, and then he turned back to the mirror again and ended the conversation with, "Now, do you mind? I was about to take a shower, unless you fancy seeing me in my knickers."

Dudley left without a word and shut the bathroom door behind him. Harry was a bit flabbergasted at the exchange he had just shared with his cousin. He decided, after a moment of thought, he'd try to figure out what Dudley was getting at at a better time, and without a moment of pause, he wrenched the oversized t-shirt off and walked to the shower, turning on the hot water. Maybe a shower would help him organize his thoughts.

* * *

Ron was blissful. His letter went over well with Hermione, very well to tell the truth, and they had now, somewhat awkwardly, but very happily entered into a relationship. Nothing more racy had happened since that single photograph, and neither of them had made a move toward something like that. They where perfectly happy.

He was laying on his bed, one arm behind his head, the other holding the last letter Hermione had sent in front of his face. He smiled, set it aside, and looked out his window. "_I wonder if I'll ever get use to it"_ he thought to himself. He really didn't care, he had to admit to himself, he was happy. And to top it all off Hermione was coming to the Burrow _tomorrow_. He grinned and sat up. He was excited to see her, but also nervous. "How different is it gonna be in person, I wonder?" he said out loud to himself, and scratched his head, deep in thought.

"Talking to yourself, are you? Hope insanity isn't genetic, or at least only the males in the family get it," Ginny said, leaning on the door jam of Ron's room. "Don't think too hard either, don't want to over stress your brain before your first N.E.W.T. year, do you?"

Ron jumped at the sound of his sister's voice and stood up quickly, trying to nonchalantly hide Hermione's letter from her view. He had forgotten the door was open. "Ha ha, what'd'ya' want, Ginny?" He said.

The letter had escaped Ginny's view and she stepped into Ron's room. Glancing around. she laughed; his room was quite the mess. "Yeah, I was just wondering something.. Hey, whats that?" she said squinting into the open drawer on Ron's bedside table which held several items. A book of Quidditch plays, a few chocolate frogs he had neglected to eat, a few letters from Harry he had kept, the letters from Hermione this summer, and of course, on top, the photograph of a young witch in skimpy red lingerie.

Ron kicked the drawer shut with his long leg, the back of his neck turning red. "None of your business. Look, Ginny, are you gonna ask me what you came up here for or what? I don't have all day, I need to.. clean up my room."

"I'll say you do." Ginny mumbled, leaning around Ron at the bedside table. She decided her cause was more important than finding out about her brother's dirty laundry. "Yeah, alright, I was only wondering if you'd heard from Harry? How he's doing, you know, with Sirius and all... Can't be easy, can it?"

"Yeah, I told you, Ginny, he's coming here in, what, like four days? Gee, your memory is going," he said to her, still focused on keeping the contents on his drawer secret. The last thing he needed was his mom up here snooping around in his stuff, finding out more than she needed to know.

"I know that, genius, you told everyone at dinner the other week. I meant past that. I don't care about what y'all write about, just, ya' know, is he okay?" she said, her voice softening at the end a bit.

Ron was about to answer quickly again, then he paused. He hadn't heard from Harry.. After he'd gotten Hermione's response to the letter he'd written with Harry's advice, he'd written Harry a quick thank you for the help, reminding him not to say a word that he had told him, and saying he was excited to see him. He'd told Pig to take it to him and then a letter to Hermione. Pig had come back with a response from Hermione and he'd quickly forgotten about Harry. He couldn't believe himself! Forgetting his best mate over a girl, even if the girl was _Hermione_. "I guess I haven't heard anything.. I've been so preoccupied with.. uh.. you know, getting my O.W.L results I hadn't noticed.." He said.

"Ronald Wesley, you and I both know you don't give a rat's red arse about your O.W.L.s, at least beyond whether or not you passed. What in the world could make you forget about your best mate, and his very dead Godfather? You knew Sirius, too. You can't tell me you haven't felt sad about it? I know I have and I knew him less than you." Her voice shook a bit with her words. In truth, she was sad about Sirius's passing, but right now her concern was Harry and his pain.

"I.. Wow." was all Ron managed, his mood taking a drastic dive. He sat back on his bed. He felt a small crunch of parchment under his behind. He vaguely worried Ginny would say something about what did he just sit on.

"Right," Ginny began, mildly appalled at her brother's lack of response. "Can I borrow Pig then? I'd like to send Harry a letter."

"Yeah, uh, take him," Ron said, with a wave of his hand.

"Pigwidgeon!" Ginny said. Pig chirruped noisily and landed on her shoulder. She left the room without another word.

"Great... I bloody well forgot about my best mate! How thick can I get! He's always had my back, and what'da' I do after Sirius dies? I send him questions about my girl trouble, don't even ask how he's doing!" He raged to himself out loud. He sighed. "Hope he's okay.. Guess I'll see in a few days for myself.." He stood and started picking up things around his room. He really did need to clean.

* * *

Indy sat at the kitchen table in Grimmauld Place, his wife next to him looking over some potential locations for a wand shop. Kreacher was busy whipping up some lunch for them to share once their host, Sirius, returned from his trial.

The comforts of Grimmauld Place were enjoyable to Indy, but he did miss his tent out in the world, having the ability to live anywhere that suited their work. It was important to be here now, he knew, if Voldemort continued gaining strength, it wouldn't be just England or Europe he sought to control. Whatever part he and Emma could do to stop that from happening, he felt obligated to fill. And Olive, he sighed. She'd be so much safer surrounded by extremely skilled witches and wizards, and Dumbledore. He knew she'd be safer in Hogwarts than in their tent, at least in the long run, but he was going to miss his little girl.

He'd always enjoyed having such a close knit family, and really hoped this time apart wouldn't loosen their bond. "Anything near the school, dear? I know we talked about Diagon Alley, but what about Hogsmeade instead?"

"Hmm... I'll look.." Emma muttered, immersed.

"Think about it, dear. I know Olivander has gone missing, but his shop has been in Diagon Alley for years. I think we should branch out where there are no other wand shops. And the students come into the village now and again. We could see Olive, and get some wand repair business from them I'm sure," pushed Indy, the more he talked, the better the idea sounded to him.

"Yeah, I agree it sounds good. I'll just have to look, love," she said with a pat on his arm.

Before he could continue, Sirius and Dumbledore walked into the kitchen, apparently having just gotten back. "How'd it go? Free on paper now?" Indy said with a smile.

"Sure am! And a professor, to boot! Only thing I didn't make out with was my old wand, sadly," Sirius supplied. Looking almost chipper, even with the news about his wand. All in all Indy supposed it was a fair trade. Freedom, being absolved of a crime against the people he would be less likely to hurt in this world, and a job he was looking forward to? And he happened to know a couple of wandmarkers near by.

"Well, we can help you there! We have a ton upstairs and can always make a custom piece! What'd'ya say? You game?" Indy asked. He loved each wand he'd ever made, and loved seeing them pick their wizard. "_what would suit him, hmm.. lets see... a nice oak perhaps? No no... Hawthron, I don't know.. and the core.. what core..." _he already began trying to decide.

"Um.. Really? Y'all have stock to sell?" Sirius asked, looking thrown off by the offer, but flattered.

"Every wand we make is for sell, with the exception of a few projects gone astray. And of course, it's the least we could do after you let us stay in your home. It's on the house, no charge," Indy said. "Of course, Sirius, we'd love to have made your next wand," Emma chimed in, smiling up from her papers.

"Very well, I'd be honored. But on one thing I won't waver. The wand will be paid for. By the Ministry. They insisted, and so now I do, too. When can we take a look?" Sirius said, looking giddy.

"Well, whenever you like, but I think Kreacher is serving up lunch now," Indy said, looking over at Dumbledore happily munching on a turkey sandwich.

After being fed, everyone, sans Dumbledore who regrettably had another matter to attend to, gathered in the Black family sitting room with the trunks of wands and Sirius sitting on a stool.

"Hmm.." Indy thought out loud. "Any specific requests?" His hands running over various boxes.

"Um, maybe something different, can I try something with a more unusual core? And also maybe a phoenix wand, like my first. I don't know, whatever suits me," Sirius replied, thinking hard.

With that, Indy selected a Phoenix and cherry wand, a werewolf whisker and willow, a billywing stinger and Hawthorne wand, and the last Sphinx wand he'd crafted to start with. "Alrighty then, lets see. Start with this, the phoenix and cherry, quite swishy."

As soon as he lifted it, Indy knew it wasn't right, but he allowed Sirius to cast a few simple spells with it. "Hmm, no, we can do better," said Indy after it cast a somewhat dim Lumos. "Here, this is the last we made, Sphinx hair core in oak, good for a crafty mind."

"Sphinx, really? That's definitely a new one," Sirius said as he took the wand and gave it a wave. Sadly this wasn't his match either.

"Hmm... Werewolf Whisker and Willow perhaps? Very solid in transfiguration. I'm told you're an accomplished animagus"

"Let's have a go then," Sirius said taking it. Nope, not it again. But this was only three wands in, sometimes it took 20 or 40 before finding the right one. Each wand was different...

"Next then, this is Billywing stinger and Hawthorne, for the prankster at heart. The hawthorne gives a nice boost in Defense Against the Dark Arts as well," Indy said.

"Oh, really? Well, let's see," Sirius picked up the wand, and it immediately glowed, a smile crept upon his lips and he cast a particularly strong Patronus Charm.

"I do believe we've found your wand, Mr. Black. And an excellent match, if I do say so myself," Indy said with a huge grin and mock-bow. "And whom should I make the ticket out to? The Minister of Magic?" he added with a chuckle.

There was nothing like fitting a wand with the proper wizard, he mused.

* * *

"You've very lucky, Albus, that I came here when I did," Snape said, looking down at the exhausted figure that was Albus Dumbledore.

"I will agree, Severus. Had I imagine the difficulties I would have destroying the ring, I would have asked for your help from the beginning," Dumbledore said in a quiet voice.

"I don't image you have much more than a year before that begins to spread, and therefore... killing you," Snape said, looking away. "However.. I will do some research, just to be sure what I am correct in my assessment. Why, Albus, did you put it on?"

"Severus, you know, as well as I do, it makes no difference whether or not you can save me. You are going to have to kill me either way," Dumbledore said matter-of-factly, avoiding the question.

Snape, who had walked to the window quickly turned to face the frail Dumbledore. "I will _not_ be the cause of your death, Albus! There will be another way! You're a creative old man, I'm sure if I can't think of another answer, you sure can."

"Severus, I do not think there is another way. You've come to accept so much about life. You know as well as I do how fragile and precious it is. Do you not know that I wouldn't throw it away if I didn't think it necessary?" Dumbledore spoke slowly.

A deep emotion flashed behind Snape's eyes, but quickly it was replaced with rage. "You foolish, hard-headed old man! Can you not see how much you are needed to _cause_ his downfall? With you gone, he'll take over faster than you or I can say 'pureblood mania'. Do you really expect _Potter_ to be able to riddle everything out on his own? And if he does, to be able to fix it?"

"I do believe Harry has the power, and the understanding, to be able to rid our world of Voldemort. I will give him the knowledge and skills to point him in the right direction this year. Severus, it's the way things must be."

"I will not take your life, Albus," Snape said in a hushed voice, looking out of the window at Hogwarts' grounds.

"Very well, Severus, we'll discuss it another time. Now, if you please, I'd fancy a bit of rest. I have to travel in a few days time," Dumbledore said, as he raised from the chair he sat in, careful not to brush his curse-blackened hand against anything.

Snape did not want to 'discuss it another time'. For all he cared, Dumbledore could asked him 20 times every day, and he'd never do what he wanted him to. It was unspeakable. But wanting to let him rest, and wanting to get some himself, as his recent visits with Dumbledore tended to exhaust him, he said his goodbyes. After making sure Dumbledore was safely in his chambers, he made his way to the fireplace to floo home- or to his summer home at least.

* * *

Hermione sat somewhat awkwardly next to Ron on his bed. She had arrived a few hours earlier, and after the usual greeting from the Weasleys, and a sinfully large meal, she and Ron had escaped to have a talk. She could tell he was distracted and wondered what could be wrong; things seemed so great in the letters. Perhaps after seeing her in person, he had rethought the whole thing.

"Well... Lovely to finally see you in the flesh," Hermione said, facing the side of Ron's face, as he sat facing straight forward, and was examining the floorboard.

"Yeah..." he said without much enthusiasm.

"_Oh no... Something is definitely not right here._ _Maybe he forgot what I look like in person.._ _Or with clothes on... Have I gained weight since I took the picture? Or maybe someone else got to him... Luna Lovegood does live just down the road from here... Oh no.."_ Hermione fretted to herself, looking down at her body, and glancing around the room for signs of another girl's presence . Eventually, she spoke. "Erm.. Ron.. Don't think I'm being clingy or anything but... I kind of thought there would be a bit of a different.. greeting. Maybe a smile.. or kiss.. when we were alone.. Is there... What's wrong?"

With this, Ron looked up. "Huh?" he said before thinking. Then it dawned on him, he was being distant! Hermione had no idea about Harry.. Maybe she'd heard from him! "Oy! Have you heard from Harry?" he blurted out before explaining.

"_Harry? Now he's just trying to change the subject!"_ Hermione thought. "Well, not for a bit. But what does Harry got to do with anything? Look, if you're rethinking.. This," she gestured to the space between them, "then don't just make excuses not to talk about it! Tell me straight away!"

Ron, slightly confused again at the turn her word had taken, gave her a puzzled look. "What are you on about? And what do you mean 'this'?" he mimicked her gesture. "Am I too close or something because I figured you wouldn't mind sitting right next to me consider-" Hermione broke in.

"This! You thick.. I meant us! I was pointing to both of us!" She said, her face turning red.

"Who are you calling thick! You moved your hand between us.. Anyways, what's your problem?" He retorted, getting irritated now.

"My problem? MY PROBLEM? Let's try your problem, Ronald Weasley! I thought we had a.. a relationship. But I get here all excited to see you and all you can do is stare at the floor and grunt! Am I THAT MUCH of a let down in person!" She bellowed at him, now standing.

Finally understanding the situation, Ron stood and put his hands lightly on Hermione's waist. She pushed his hands down, but he replaced them. "Hermione, stop. Look! Hey, listen!" he said when she tried to push him away. "Look, I'm _very_ happy to see you," she shook her head. "Yes, I am," he insisted, "and I've been really looking forward to it, but yesterday something happened. Just calm down and listen, alright!" he said as she tried to push him away again, she stopped moving, crossed her arms and starred at him. "Ginny came into my room, and I was all happy and junk, and thinking about us"- ("_he said 'us' " _thought Hermione, softening a bit)"- and anyways, Ginny asked me if I'd heard from Harry, and I thought about it, I haven't. I only sent him a reply when he told me he was coming down. He never said anything back. I... I _forgot_ about him, Hermione.. I was distracted with us.. I _forgot_ my best mate, right after his godfather _died_!" he said, enraged. "How could I do that? Is he okay, Hermione? Please tell me he's okay.." he pulled her close into a hug, his face resting on the top of her head.

She responded, wrapping her arms around his thin frame, her anger and insecurities melting away instantly. Her heart raced at his arms around her, but her mind was on what he said. "I forgot, too.." she mumbled into his chest. After a moment longer, they pulled apart, but remained close. Ron looked down into Hermione's big warm eyes that happened to be filling with tears. He felt terrible, he'd made her upset. His eyes then met her trembling, soft lips. He glanced back at her eyes, and then slowly lowered his face to hers, sliding a hand up to cup the left side of her face. He brushed his lips softly against hers, his heart pounded loudly in his ears. Hermione parted her lips slightly, and the two kissed a bit deeper. After a moment that seemed like forever for the two, they broke apart, and back into a hug.

"_He kissed me!," _Hermione thought "_And it was amazing.."_

Again, they eventually pulled apart, but this time they did not kiss, they sat on the bed, facing each other.

"Do you think he's okay, Hermione? I mean.. really? You know how hard he took Cedric's death, and he hardly knew him.. But Sirius? " Ron asked.

After a moment of thought, Hermione answered. "I don't know. I really hope he is. We have to be there for him when he gets here. I got a letter from him a little after you told me when he'd be coming here and I had written him. He said he was looking forward to seeing me and he was glad I'd be here when he got here, so we could all reunite together. It was a little odd, but he didn't mention much else. He didn't respond to what I said in reply, and I guess I never noticed.." There was a pause. Ron said nothing, but he had taken Hermione's hand in his. It felt natural to the both of them. After a moment, Hermione looked into Ron's eyes again. "I don't know if we should tell Harry right away.. Let's see how he is first, you know. Make sure he knows we care. So I guess we shouldn't tell your family either, which is fine. They might bother us anyways. Which makes me think.. what should we do at Hogwarts?"

"Uh.. Well, let's just see how it goes with Harry first. I told him I was telling you I fancied you.. So.. he might guess.. And I figure you'll probably tell Ginny anyways, and she won't tell anyone yet.. But, yeah, let's just see how Harry is when he gets here," Ron finished, hoping Hermione wouldn't ask what else he'd told Harry.

"Yeah, alright. Sounds good. And.. uh.. Sorry I sort of flipped out on you Ron, this is new to me and-" but Ron had cut off her worries with another light kiss.


	4. Chapter 4 Padfoot and Moony

**A/N: its been awhile since I posted, I have what I want to write pretty much planned out, just have to write it. There are some interesting plot points coming up in just a few chapters I promise, a few new OC's that'll make this story. A review or two would be nice, to know someone is out there. Enjoy. -C. **

Ginny sat staring out off the window of her cramped, but colorful bedroom. The walls were covered in photographs and paintings, shelves covered most of the unoccupied wall space and those too where cluttered with books and various objects she had created or kept. Her bed was made, but messily so, it was covered in brightly colored pillows. Her floor was mostly clean, except for a few pairs of shoes here or there and a pair of jeans. In the corner of the room, taking up a good deal of space, was an old camping cot with a few blankets and pillows folded on top of it, as well as a small toiletry bag and a large Hogwarts trunk sitting next to it. The trunk and bag belonged to Hermione Granger, who would be staying in her room for the remainder of the summer. Ginny and Hermione had become pretty good friends over the years, being the only two girls other than Molly in the Weasley home during their summer stays. But at this moment, Ginny didn't think about Hermione's arrival at her home earlier that day, nor the curious manner her brother and her had slipped off after dinner. Ginny was thinking about none other than Harry Potter.

Unlike her older brother, Ginny had not forgotten about Harry this summer, not for one moment. She'd always liked him, but had given up years ago after he showed few signs of feeling the same way. She still thought about him though, and counted him amongst her best friends. She would always care for Harry, he had saved her life, for Merlin's sake, and so she worried.

She wondered if Harry would send a reply to her letter before traveling to the Burrow, or if he would simply acknowledge it when he arrived. She just wanted him to know someone was thinking about him, that she was thinking about him, especially after she found out her idiot of a brother hadn't written him practically all summer. She knew witnessing Sirius's death would weigh heavily on his shoulders. Even as she thought about him with concern, she couldn't ignore the flutter of heat that picturing his pleasantly angular face, sharp green eyes, and tousled hair sent through her chest down her torso. She blushed slightly, and then sighed, pushing her long red hair from her face. "_No reason to be thinking like that about Harry. He's upset.."_ she thought to herself. Still, goosebumps rose on her neck and chest, she sighed again and ran her hand over her cheek, biting her lip.

Her door opened and she jumped, turning red again. She turned and saw it was only Hermione. "Oh, uh, hello, then. Wondered where you went after dinner."

"Sorry to startle you, I was just with Ron," Hermione said, eying Ginny's red face.

"Startle me? You didn't, I was just.. thinking," Ginny said, her face turning a deeper shade of crimson. Feeling the heat coming off of her cheeks, she rose, her back to Hermione, and pretended to look for something in the drawer in her bedside table.

"Mmhm..," Hermione said, wondering what Ginny was thinking that made her so flustered.

After being sure her color was back to normal, Ginny stood up, giving up on her false search, and struck a casual pose. "So, how've ya' been, Hermione? Nice to have you here. I've about had enough of _Fleur_ or _Phlegm_ as I like to call her. Any exciting adventures with muggle boys?" she asked, seeking to make Hermione blush to even the playing field.

Hermione, however didn't blush. "Oh no, no muggle boys. Just reading mostly, spending time with mum and dad, did a bit of shopping for some muggle clothes, my jeans were getting ratty. How about you?"

"You know, just a little Quidditch, helping mum out, avoiding Phlegm. Not much really. Actually, I've been pretty worried about Harry. Have you heard much from him this summer?" Ginny asked as casually as she could manage.

Hermione suppressed a frown, this again. She had just stopped crying about Harry and didn't really want to start again. "Um, not really. Ron's just asked me the same thing, actually. I feel terrible. Harry didn't respond to my last letter, although there wasn't much to respond to. Have you? I mean talked to him at all?"

"Well, I've only just tried. Harry and I never really write one another, but I wanted to see how he was. I sent the letter yesterday, so, of course, I haven't gotten a response. I don't even know if he will write, you know he comes down in a few days. But I really do hope he's doing okay..." Ginny trailed off, chewing on her fingernails, a distracted look in her eye as she glanced back at the window.

"You still like him, don't you, Ginny..? Harry, I mean?" Hermione said quietly, taking in the look on her friend's face. Ginny had stopped talking about Harry in their fourth year and wasn't shy around him anymore, but something about the look on her face told Hermione this was more than a friendly gesture.

Ginny had completely zoned out for a moment, but when she heard Hermione's question she dropped her hand from her mouth quickly and focused her eyes back on her bushy-haired friend, determined not to say that she did, trying to deny herself of the emotions she felt already, but the opportunity to talk about it with someone as level headed as Hermione appealed to her. Much like Hermione, Ginny didn't particularly enjoy the company of the girls she shared a dorm room with at Hogwarts. So, dropping her steady faced facade, Ginny spoke. "Yeah, I do. I dunno why really, can't get past it. I know he doesn't fancy me, and its not like I sit around moping about it. It's fine, really, but it makes me worry about him more than I normally would, you know?"

Hermione nodded. She wanted to tell Ginny about her and Ron right now, but realized it would be bad timing.

Ginny sighed and then spoke, letting her thoughts over Harry drop. "Well, what are ya' going to do, you know? Anyways, what's new with you? You said no muggle boys, but nothing about anyone from school?" She winked at Hermione, who was now wearing a light pink blush in her cheeks. Ginny knew there was a boy on Hermione's mind. "Ah! Who is it! Yes, come on, let's hear, then!"

"Well... You have to promise not to say anything.. and not to freak out or say it's weird..." Hermione said slowly.

For a split second, Ginny jealously thought "_what if it's Harry?"_ but quickly let it go. "Yeah, alright, now who is it?"

"Well.. it's.. WellItsRon," Hermione said in a jumbled grouping of words.

Ginny thought she heard Ron's name, but that couldn't be right. "What now? Hermione, calm down, you're never this... girly." Ginny said, eying her bouncy friend.

"It's Ron.. Your brother... " Hermione said slowly.

For a moment, Ginny was frozen, then for a split second her mind flashed to that glimpse of a photo she had seen in her brother's room the day before, but as quickly as that came to her it left and she smiled at Hermione and then busted out laughing. "Ron? Seriously? Hahaha, I guess I see it, you lot always at each others throats. Jeez, Hermione! How'd it happen?"

At this, Hermione paused. How would Ginny react to the real story. "Um.. well.." She said, looking down.

Ginny stopped laughing, mildly conscious that this was distracting her from her worries. She was really curious now. What wouldn't Hermione want to say. "Oh! come on! You've got to tell me, come on now!"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Alright... Uh, so I had a dream and woke up with this crazy idea to do something extreme to get his attention. So I..." after a pause she rushed the next bit of the story out, "I took a shower and put on some sexy underwear and snapped a photo and sent it by owl before I could chicken out." She stopped, and looked up at Ginny.

Ginny couldn't believe her ears and she started laughing again, and that glimpse of a photo suddenly made sense. "Red underwear, right?" She asked.

"Well yeah I... wait.. how do you know?" Hermione asked.

"I saw a photo in Ron's room. I really only saw your hair and a bit of red lace and didn't really know it was you until you just said that. Woow, Hermione! Risqué!" Ginny cracked up again. It was kind of gross to think about, but also she was impressed with Hermione stepping up.

"Yeah, well, I freaked out, but I guess it all worked out okay." Hermione said, blushing slightly again.

"Well, every girl has a wild side, eh? Even smart quiet girls like you. And every girl, no matter how serious, is still a girl at heart. I'm glad you're happy," Ginny smiled.

Hermione smiled back. "Well, I think I'll go take a shower.. " She grabbed her toiletry bag off of the cot and exited the room, Ginny calling after her, "Don't go snapping anymore pictures while you're in there!"

For a moment Ginny sat on her bed chuckling to herself about her brother and Hermione. No wonder he had been so distracted and quiet recently. But quickly her thoughts turned back to Harry and she stared out her window again at the dark starry sky.

* * *

Remus Lupin stood outside across the street from Number 12 Grimmauld Place. A steady flow of rain was falling from the overcast sky drenching him, though he hardly cared. He could simply use a drying spell on his robes when being damp mattered to him. He had received a letter from Dumbledore to come here, why, Remus couldn't conceive. He almost found it morbid to be sent here, the childhood home of his recently deceased life-long friend. So he had been standing in front of building for some time, unable to bring himself to walk to the door. Standing here, remembering how just recently he had sat inside of the Black manor with Sirius raised the grief and longing for his friend he had been feeling back to the surface. He had to admit he had good reason to be upset: James, Sirius, and he had been the best of friends for most of their lives. Remus counted himself lucky that such great guys would have ever wanted to be his friend, even after learning about his _condition_. Losing James had been hard, and really he had lost both of his best friends, thinking that Sirius had caused James's death. But for a few years Remus had one of his best mates back, Sirius being innocent had been the best news he had ever received. But now he had lost Sirius yet again, and this time he would not be coming back. With a sigh, Remus moodily pushed away from the tree he was leaning against and crossed the street. After a deep breath to push his personal feelings from his mind, he knocked on the door. A moment later, he heard footsteps in the hall closing the space to the threshold. The door swung open, and outlined in the slight glowing light from the candles inside stood a figure of medium height with shoulder length hair. This was not, as he had expected, Albus Dumbledore. Remus drew in a quick breath. He was staring at none other than Sirius Black. "Sirius!" he breathed, feeling confused but very happy.

The silhouetted figure that was Sirius responded, "Remus! My dear friend!" And then pulled a dripping Remus into his warm house.

Quickly, he regained his bearings and drew his wand on the figure. "Who are you, and why have you decided to take the form of my friend?"

The man chuckled. "Ah, always so serious, Remus! I'm not dead. Go on, ask me anything, I'll prove to you it's really me."

Remus did not lower his wand, but considered what to ask. Eventually he decided. "Who caused the death of Lily and James Potter?"

"Wormtail," the man answered with out missing a beat.

"And what," Remus continued, still not convinced, "Was James's Animagus form?"

"A stag, as was his Patronus. My animagus form is a black dog, my patronus is a hippogriff, although it once took the form of a silver fox. And you, my friend, have no animagus form, you are a werewolf." Sirius finished in a satisfied manner.

Remus lowered his wand, but did not put it away. This couldn't be happening. Sirius was dead "H.. How?" He managed to mutter.

"Come on, we'll go into the sitting room and I'll explain. Kreature! Can you please bring a couple of butter beers to the sitting room!" Sirius called over his shoulder as he led the way.

Lupin walked behind him, still extremely confused. He plopped down in a moth-eaten arm chair that faced the fireplace, Sirius standing in front of him, not yet sitting down. He took no notice to the steady rhythm of water dripping from his person to the hardwood floor below his chair. Kreacher came in, smiling pleasantly, sat two bottles of butter beer on the table, and said something to Sirius about dinner. When Sirius smiled and thanked the elf Remus almost fell out of his chair. "_I have to be dreaming..." _he thought to himself.

An hour later, Remus and Sirius were sitting at the table in the kitchen, empty bottles of butter beer around them, and plates that held the left over crumbs of their delicious supper. The two were laughing, reminiscing about the past. Their most recent wave of laughter was sparked after Sirius recalled a particularly hilarious prank James had pulled on _Snivellus _back in their fifth year.

After calming down into mere chuckles, a thought struck Remus. "Sirius, what are you going to do, now that you're free?" Sirius had only really explained why he wasn't dead, and briefly brushed over the topic of his freedom. He seemed far more interested about what was happening in Remus's own life.

"Oh, right, right. Well, mate, I'm filling your old post, as a matter of fact." Sirius said, taking a swig of the butter beer he just cracked open.

Remus coughed, choking on a sip of butter beer he himself had just taken. "Really? That's great, Sirius! You'll get to see Harry all the time. Hold on for a tick.. Does Harry know anything?"

Sirius's face fell at the mention of his godson's name. "No. He thinks that I'm dead." His voice had lost all of its playful and joking nature, it was cold. Remus felt a light shiver go up his spine. The tone of his friend's voice was much like it had been the previous year. He did not like seeing Sirius upset.

"Well, you'll have to tell him if you're going to be his teacher, so he'll know soon, wont he? Why haven't you told him yet?"

"Dumbledore, of course. I swear that man has a plan for everything. He's brilliant, of course. There's something he wants me to do I think, doesn't want to take the chance of ol' Voldy seeing I'm still kicking through Harry's mind." he paused to take a pull from his butter beer, "but the way he plans everything out is almost infuriating. Of course I'm more than happy to play along, I know it's for the better, and he won me my freedom. But I'm not positive how Harry is going to take just seeing me sitting at the staff table." He shrugged.

Remus thought about this for a moment, and decided not to comment. "So, are you excited about teaching? Honestly, I never really saw you as the teaching type."

"Yeah, I'm really looking forward to it, actually. I hope I like the kids. Not exactly excited about working with Severus. But, you did it, I'm sure I can manage. Have you seen Harry or heard anything?" Sirius moved back to their previous topic.

"Uh, no, I haven't. Although, I've been kind of busy myself." Remus said, his mind wandering to Sirius's cousin.

Sirius didn't notice the odd tone Remus's voice had taken. Rather his jolly spirits took over his momentary drop in mood. He was almost as happy as he could be to have his best mate by his side. Only seeing Harry, or having James and Lily back, could have raised his spirits any higher.

At this time a young girl with waist length wavy, strawberry blonde hair, and a shorter fellow, about 5'4" with darker skin and very light eyes walked in. "Uh, Sirius, have you by any chance just discovered a couple of illegitimate children you are now housing? Because... there are a few teens standing behind you."

"What? Oh, no, did I forget to mention? I have house guests." Sirius waved the two over closer, gesturing to the girl "This is Olive Forest, her parents have joined the order, actually her mother Emma was in the original, as well. They're out looking at real estate for a shop. And this is Benjamin Crosely, his parents will also be coming to join the order, after they wrap up their affairs in Morocco. They've been long time friends of the Forests so young Ben traveled with them so he would be here for start of term. They'll attend Hogwarts this year. This is Remus Lupin, one of my oldest, dearest friends," Sirius finished with a smirk to the kids.

"Ah, not that old Sirius, tad younger than you I might add." Remus added with a chuckle, "well, excellent to meet y'all all the same."

"Yeah, of course, are you in the order too, Mr. Lupin?" Olive said with a soft smile.

"That I am, dear, but please call me Remus."

"Cool, well we were just going to snag a snack, we'll be out of your hair directly," Benjamin added. And after grabbing a bag of crisps and a few pops they did indeed leave the kitchen.

"Remus, you must stay for a day or so. It'll be nice, we can catch up, you can give me some teaching pointers. Maybe we can even go out, meet some witches? Its been _ages_ since I've been with a woman. It'd be nice to meet someone, huh? You old lone wolf, you need a woman, too." Sirius began chuckling heartily and slapped a hand down on his friend's shoulder once they were alone.

Remus laughed as well, although half-heartily at the mention of women. "Yes, I think I will, Sirius. It'll be like the old days. Is there room, though? How many people do you have staying here?"

"Just the four of them, myself, and Kreacher. Of course there is room! This is the Noble House of Black," he said mockingly. "We can accommodate many guests," and laughed heartily.

"Then it's settled," Remus said, almost giddy at how this day had turned out.

The two chuckled and tapped their butter beer bottles together in a sort of toast.

* * *

Harry was sitting on his school trunk, staring out the window. Hedwig chirped irritably, as she had often as of late and bit at her cage. "Shush, Hedwig," Harry said monotonously, like he'd said more times than he could count. He stood and opened his trunk; books, parchment, clothes, his broom service kit, everything was there. He still walked around his room, searching, not wanting to leave anything behind. He sighed, slamming the trunk shut, and sitting on it once more.

"Boy-uh-Harry! Get down here!" Vernon called from below. Harry sighed, he was not in the mood to be in his uncle's presence. The way Vernon caught himself made Harry smile slightly, and he made his way down stairs.

Once within hearing range, he responded with a "What?"

"Don't you speak to me in that ungrateful tone!" Snapped Vernon, his huge mustache bristling.

Harry simply stared at his uncle, waiting. After a moment Vernon spoke.

"Why are you still in my house? You said that that Dumble-ie-dor fellow was coming to take you away to that freak friend of yours today. The normal way, not with that.. unnaturalness.." he glanced at the fireplace before staring Harry down.

Harry smiled to himself, remembering the time the Weasleys had all but destroyed the Dursleys' living room. The smile faded quickly however, because he was doubting Dumbledore's arrival himself. "Believe me, it's not because I enjoy your company so much that I'm still here. I don't know where Dumbledore is."

Vernon began to rise from the sagging armchair he sat in, had he not been so large, Harry would have been in a chokehold before the single loud knock was heard at the door.

Vernon flopped backwards into the chair from his half standing position. "Get that door, boy!" he said.

Harry glared at being called "boy" but went to the door without protest. As he hoped, the figure outside the door was bearded, and none other than Albus Dumbledore.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry said excitedly.

"Harry, you act surprised. Have you forgotten you are to come with me today?"

"No, sir, I... well I-" Harry trailed off, glancing down, mildly ashamed he had doubted the crinkle-eyed headmaster that had never let him down.

"Surely you hadn't thought I would forget," he said with a smile. "Well, get your trunk, I'll speak to your aunt and uncle."

Harry lead him to the sitting room and went up stairs to gather his belongings. A moment later, Harry was in the entryway holding his Firebolt with Hedwig. Dumbledore was waiting for him there, and lead the way outside with out another word to the Dursleys.

"Harry, let Hedwig out of her cage, please. I think she'd enjoy stretching her wings. Anyway, she'll have to fly to the Weasley's, and put your broom away, we wont be needing it." Dumbledore asked after they had walked onto the dimmed lawn. Harry did as was asked of him.

Once Hedwig had flown off, Dumbledore waved his wand at the now empty cage and trunk and they disappeared. Harry assumed they had been sent to the Weasley's as well. Putting away his broom had mildly baffled him. Although he could hardly visualize Dumbledore flying along next to him on a broom, how else were they to travel? "Sir, if we aren't travailing by Floo powder or broom, how are we to get to the Weasley's? By Portkey? I don't think the Knight Bus goes all the way out to Ottery St. Catchpole. "

"My dear boy, I'd need a permit and all kinds of red tape to get a Portkey, and the Knight Bus would be rather slow. We have a stop to make before the Weasley's." Dumbledore retorted, a twinkle in his eye, knowing he had only increased the teen's curiosity.

"But, sir, I don't understand. And where are we going?" Harry questioned.

"Harry, Harry, don't worry. Come, take my arm, yes now, the right one. And hold on rather tightly," Dumbledore directed.

Once more, Harry did what was asked of him, but in doing so, he noticed Dumbledore's left hand had been heavily blackened, as if it had been burned. Curiosity sprung up in him again. "Professor Dumbledore! What in Merlin's name happened to your hand?" He blurted out.

Dumbledore chuckled heartily. "Ah, it's a rather thrilling story. But I'm afraid we do not have time for it now, and this is hardly the place. So now, please hold on tight and do not let go of my arm."

With that it was if they had turned on the spot, and something had pulled Harry back from behind the navel. It was a sickening feeling, as if he was being crushed and pulled in every which way. It took all of his concentration to keep hold of Dumbledore's arm. And like that, it was over, and the two stood on a completely different, dimly lit street.

Dumbledore withdrew his arm from Harry's grasp and pulled his trusty Delunminator from his pocket. With a few clicks, the orbs of light from the nearby street lamps disappeared and the two were plunged into darkness.

Harry bent over and began coughing, he felt as if his insides had been rearranged with out his consent. He gasped, "That was apparation, wasn't it?" to Dumbledore.

"Yes, Harry, very good. And you took it quite well, no vomit or screaming. Come along then, we must get a move on. Several blocks to walk, and I want to get you to the Weasley's at a decent hour." Dumbledore strolled forward up the cobblestone path, past many cookie-cutter houses with perfect lawns and shiny vehicles parked in their circular driveways. Harry followed as quickly as he could manage, and caught up with the oddly agile headmaster.

"Sir, what exactly are we doing in a muggle neighborhood?" Harry whispered, feeling unsure of his surroundings.

"We've come to request the service of a former colleague of mine for the following term. I believe he is currently borrowing that residence right there," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the home to the left of the two, which lacked a car. The two made their way up the walk and through the gate. Once at the door, Dumbledore knocked loudly once. The two waited. No reply. Dumbledore knocked once more, and then proceeded to unlock the door with his wand, and walk calmly inside.

Harry stifled a chuckle at his headmaster breaking and entering, and followed close behind. The place had an eerie air about it that did not make one want to be left alone. Dumbledore made his way confidently into the sitting room, off to the left of the entry way, and lit a fire in the fireplace with a wave of his wand. The room was seemingly empty, extremely tidy, and gave Harry a shiver up the spine. He fought the urge to sprint back out the front door. He knew it was irrational, and that he had nothing to fear, but he was on edge. Had Dumbledore not have entered before him, Harry would have been long gone.

"Horace, very nice deterring charm, now if you wouldn't mind showing yourself and lifting it, I'd be much obliged. It looks as if our young friend here might sprint for the door at any moment," Dumbledore spoke to the room.

Harry was, in fact, preparing to run out of the door, the feeling of unease was immense. His stomach was churning, the hair at the back of his neck was prickling, goosebumps rose down his spine, and his senses seemed to be hyper aware, feeling eyes on him. Although his body was still facing the direction Dumbledore was, his head was whipping around, looking, edging his feet to turn and run. Once Dumbledore's words penetrated his panic-stricken state, he whipped his head back to him. "Headmaster?" Harry whispered, "Who is it that you're speaking to?"

But Dumbledore did not respond. Instead he stepped forward to an overstuffed blue armchair that stood near a small wooden table. He drew his wand and gently poked the silky fabric. With an almost springy pop, the chair began to transfigure into a man, his belly jiggling. Harry drew in a sharp gasp. So there _was_ someone watching him! Or rather, in the room.

"Wonderful disguise, Horace, but I do believe you have no reason to hide from me. Would you please lift your excellent charm work, you wouldn't want to make young Harry here uncomfortable, would you?" Dumbledore said with a light voice, and twinkle in his eye. Although it hardly challenged him to unravel others plans or locations, he still particularly enjoyed revealing someone from a well crafted disguise.

The large bellied man wobbled slightly as he joined the other two in a full standing position. He smiled, although a bit halfheartedly at Dumbledore, and glanced with curious eyes at Harry. He was not a young man, his hair was silver, and his face clean-shaven. Something about his glance still gave Harry the goosebumps. He withdrew his wand from his robes and muttered something under his breath. Immediately, Harry felt relief, his body, which had been so tightly tensed, relaxed so quickly he swayed and had to catch himself on a nearby bookcase. "And why is it that you are looking for me, Albus? You know, or assume of course, that there are others looking for me. I don't usually spend my evenings as an armchair. It's rather dull" He asked.

"Well, Horace, I find myself in an interesting situation. Perhaps we should speak over some tea?" Dumbledore spoke, taking a seat on a light colored sofa.

"Of course, uh, well boy, Harry is it? Merlin's beard, not _the_ Harry?" He paused briefly, giving Harry another appraising glance, squinting. "There is a kettle on the stove in the other room, should be ready in a moment. Tea cups in the cupboard, would you do an old man a favor and grab them please?"

"Uh, yeah, okay, sure." Harry said quickly, turning on his heel unsteadily, hoping to avoid the whole "It's Harry Potter!" show he had to deal with whenever meeting new witches or wizards. Once he had left the room, Dumbledore spoke again.

"Lovely home. Whose is it, Horace?"

"A muggle family's, they're on holiday in the Caribbean, I believe. Albus, what is it that you need? I have a hunch, and if it is what I think, the answer is no."

"My potions master, Severus, of course you know him, will be needing a significant amount of time off campus this year, and I am seeking another potions master to fill in for him in his absence. The two of you would share the classes. And in seeking someone to fill a void, I, of course, want the best for my school and students. Would you consider taking the post? I assure you, Hogwarts has the utmost security."

"Albus, I have retired. I do not, and have not, hoped to hold a teaching post since my retirement, what makes you think I would return now?"

Harry returned with a tray with three cups and a pot of tea on it at this moment. Coming around the corner, he caught the last of that sentence. "_so Dumbledore is getting him to fill a teaching post then. "_ He thought as he sat the tray on the coffee table before Dumbledore, and took a seat next to him. Getting the tea was second nature to him, the Dursleys had often treated Harry as a personal slave rather than a member of the family.

"Ah, Horace, I don't think I properly introduced the two of you. Horace, this is Harry Potter, and Harry, this is Horace Slughorn, an old colleague of mine." Dumbledore said in response to his question more than out of politeness.

Harry leaned across the low table and shook Horace's hand. "Merlin! You have your mother's eyes, I'd know them anywhere," Hoarse said as he leaned closer to Harry's face.

"You, uh, you knew my mother, then, sir?" Harry asked.

"Of course! Of course! She is on my shelf, now isn't she!" He gestured to a rather large gathering of photos. Harry could see the vibrant red hair of his mother.

"Um, yes, sir. Shelf, sir?" Harry asked, wondering why there was such a gathering of photos, were they all dead? That would be morbid.

"Former students, of course. Those who excelled in one way or another, those who became something. Of course, you see your mother, and there is Regulus Black, of course. Never got Sirius, unfortunately. And of course.." Horace trailed on, but Harry stopped listening. Sirius's name had stabbed a hole through his stomach, he fought to keep a normal face. He had yet to deal with his godfather's death. The thought of him young, alive, enjoying life with his mother and father made him simply ache. Wishing he could have been with them in their Hogwarts days, before their lives were full of darkness and death.

During Horace's speech, Dumbledore had helped himself to some tea. He sat his glass down and began to stand, and taking in the look in Harry's eyes he cleared his throat. "Well, I can see you're rather enjoying your retirement, Horace. I wont push the matter any further. I must be getting Harry somewhere. Nice seeing you, of course."

A light seemed to drop from Horace's eyes as he finished talking about his former pupils. "Right, y-yes. Okay, lovely seeing you, Albus, and meeting you, Mr. Potter." He said, his eyes unfocused.

Harry said goodbye briefly and followed Dumbledore out of the house. "Sir, what exactly was all of that about? Not that I minded accompanying you, but why exactly did you bring me with you?"

Dumbledore simply smiled as they moved down the walk, away from the house. Suddenly a panting Horace was behind them "Wait-" he gasped, stopping. "I'll do it. But I'll want nice pay and a decent office!"

"Sounds lovely, Horace. We'll be in contact with the details shortly. You can contact me by owl." Dumbledore gave a wave and the two kept walking.

"Did you know he'd take the job, sir?" Harry asked, a slightly puzzled expression on his face.

"One might say that, although a more trained eye would see that I merely had a hunch, and acted on it. Well, I'm sure you'd like to get moving, I doubt you want to miss Molly's cooking. I dare say it's some of the best I've ever tasted."

Harry gave a nod, still feeling confused, and took Dumbledore's arm, bracing for the unpleasant feeling of Apparition. He was thankful he hadn't eating prior to Dumbledore's arrival.

* * *

Hermione was blissful. She and Ron had gone for a walk out past the large Weasley yard, the warm sun was beating down on them, a light breeze brushed her hair away from her face, and Ron's hand was in hers. They hadn't fought in the four days she had been there, with the exception of right after she arrived.

Ron paused, and leaned against a low wooden fence and pulled Hermione next to him. He closed his eyes and inhaled the summer air. Hermione bit her lip as she took in his face. He had grown up a lot since she first met him. His long nose now fit on his face, his lanky body now had a slight muscled appearance, his jaw was stronger, more defined. The way the sun light showed through his hair, made it glow around his profile. He opened his blue eyes that seemed to shimmer, and Hermione's heart gave a light jump. She blushed slightly at her obvious ogling and glanced down at their still intertwined hands.

Suddenly, Ron's other hand was under her jaw, pulling her face up to his. His lips brushed lightly against hers, before locking around her bottom lip and pulling gently. She pulled her hand from his and placed it behind his neck, pulling his face closer to hers, deepening the kiss. He slid his other hand down to her waist and pushed her against the fence, crushing his body against hers. Hermione thought every nerve in her body must be on fire. She wrapped her other arm around his back, pushing him still closer to herself. He broke the kiss apart and began kissing Hermione's jaw, nipping down her neck with his teeth. She stifled a moan, her cheeks turning a deep red. Part of herself could not believe that she was making out with Ron out in the open, but the rest of her over rode that small part. She was putty in his unpracticed hands. His fingers trailing down her neck to rest on her collar bone left fiery trails of goosebumps. Ron closed his lips around the skin at the base of her neck, and sucked it in, grazing his teeth over it. Hermione's fingers gripped at his back, and for one moment she let a moan of need escape her lips. She then gasped, pulling his mouth from her neck, not wanting a mark, and back up to hers. She ran her tongue against his lower lip, begging for entrance. He parted his lips, letting her tongue slide in to greet his. He moved the hand from her waist to her lower back, pushing her pelvis closer to his. The pressure of his body against her hipbones was invigorating. Ron grabbed her bottom lip with his teeth and bit it gently. Hermione sighed deeply. Ron released her lip and began dragging his lips back down her back, he paused at her collarbone, grazing his teeth over it, and pulling his lips down her chest, glancing up to gauge her reaction.

His gentle lips against her flesh was driving Hermione mad. She knew his mouth was trailing further and further past her neck, but she didn't care to stop him. Her mind was too hazed with pleasure to pull away. His lips lightly touched the top of one of her fleshy orbs, his hand slid down from her collar bone to cup it gently. Hermione's breath was ragged, she opened her eyes briefly and noticed the sun inching behind the horizon line. Logic broke through her lust muddled mind and she pulled Ron's face back up to hers, kissing him lightly. She could tell his face must have been confused when she pulled away and simply leaned her head against his chest.

"Ron, we have to go," she mumbled, trying to keep her mind focused, not wandering to the muscled chest beneath her hand, or the definite bulge against her thigh, or the fire raging through her torso.

Ron rested his cheek against the top of her head, and then kissed it. "Mmm, and why is that? I thought we were having a good time." His hand trailed down her spine. She shuddered slightly.

"We were, are. I mean, I am, but we need to... go" She paused, her eyes fluttering shut as his fingers moved over her spine.

"Mmmhm, then why would we need to go?" He mumbled against her ear, pulling her closer.

It took a moment, but eventually Hermione responded. "The sun."

"Yes, it's lovely," Ron mumbled, kissing her shoulder.

"Hmm..." Hermione said, and then her eyes flew open. "No, Ron, the sun is setting. Your mother will be expecting us for dinner and Harry, he's coming this evening."

Ron's posture changed slightly, and she knew he understood they really did have to go. He stepped back slightly from her, pulled her lips back up to his for a long soft kiss, his fingers lingering at her jaw. After a moment he stepped further back and took her hand. "Come along, then. Mum would throw a fit and fall in it if she knew, and that we hadn't told her."

Hermione smiled at his grin. "We'll have to slip away again sometime soon," She said.

* * *

Harry was just outside of the Weasley's fence, the sun had just set, and Dumbledore only paused to have a quick conversation.

"Harry, once you are settled in at school, I'd like to have a word with you in my office. I may require your assistance in some matters this year, relating, of course, to the prophecy. I expect you've told young master Weasley and Miss Granger about it, yes?"

"Ah, no, sir, I haven't really told anyone, I..."

"Of course, you wished to spare them the apparent worry about yourself, yes?"

"Uh... yes, actually."

"Well, I do believe it would be prudent for you to relax your guard on that matter."

"Alright, sir, I will. Thank you for bringing me here"

"But, of course ,Harry, I'll see you back at school. I expect you'll, well, you'll have a few questions for me, and so I look.. forward to our first lesson."

He then appareated on the spot. He took a moment to gather himself, he still felt deflated from the comment about Sirius, and deciding to puzzle out what ever curious things Dumbledore had in mind later. The joy of being so close to his surrogate family and best mates quickly gripped him and he made his way around to the door that led into the kitchen. Once he opened it and stepped in, he was swept up into a bone crushing hug. He should have known Mrs. Weasley would be in the kitchen this time of evening.

She stepped back, keeping her hands on his arms. "Harry, dear! So nice to see you! Merlin, you look thin! That'll never do, never worry, dear. I'll whip up plenty of food, even with Ron around you'll get thirds." As if to prove a point, his stomach growled. Mrs. Weasley nodded knowingly. "Ron and Hermione just got in, they'll be in the sitting room, dear."

Harry smiled and thanked her and made his way into the sitting room. His two best friends sat facing away from the door way, Hermione had her head on Ron's shoulder. Harry couldn't help himself "Ooooo, what do we have here?" Hermione bolted up, followed by Ron.

"Oh! Harry!" Hermione ran around the couch and crushed Harry into a hug. He hugged back, it felt nice to be cared for. "Oh, Harry! We're so so sorry! How are you! Are you okay?" She pulled away from him and stared into his face.

Ron came around and hugged Harry, too. It was quick and brotherly, but it spoke millions between the two. "Sorry, mate, I should've written more. Honest, I'm probably the worst friend."

"No worries. I doubt I would have written back. But I don't really want to talk about that at the moment. Tell me, does your mother know?" he elbowed Ron in the ribs. Ron's ears turned red and he shook his head vigorously.

"Don't say anything in front of mum, we don't need her worrying about us right now. You're the, well, we should just have a fun summer." Ron whispered briskly into Harry's ear, and even quieter he said "And don't tell Hermione you _know_" He pulled back and gave an intense stare.

"Harry!" screamed Ginny. "When did you get here?" she said in a more conversational tone. Harry looked away from Ron at the sound of his name and took in Ginny. She was more beautiful every time he saw her. Her long red hair was shiny and seemed to reflect every bit of light in the room. Her warm brown eyes sparkled. Her thin body had a beautiful curve that caused Harry to stutter when he responded.

"Uh, J-Just now" he cleared his throat. Ginny hopped from the stairs and came to embrace him. This hug was quite different from the others he had received. Every place her skin touched his was electrified, his hands lingered in the small of her back, his lips gently brushed the top of her head. No one took notice of this, no one but Ginny. When they broke apart they shared a deep look.

After that, the room relaxed and broke into cheerful conversation, awaiting the feast Mrs. Weasley was probably in the midst of preparing for Harry's arrival. It was good to feel loved.

Harry and Ron sat up late in Ron's attic bedroom discussing this or that. Ron told Harry all about Bill and Fleur's engagment, and how they'd been staying at the Burrow, along with Fred and George for the summer, so the house had been packed.

"So, how's your mum like her Ron?" Harry asked.

"Ah, you know mum, very particular about this and that. Thinks they're rushing into things, and that she and Bill only like each others looks. But Fleur dotes on him, I'm pretty sure they're for real. So mum'll have to get used to her. Ginny, too. Blimey, she hates her. Calls her Phlegm." Ron supplied. Thinking over his ever growing family.

"Ah yeah, so when are you and Hermione going to talk to her? Planning on saying anything this summer, or seeing how things go for a bit?" Harry asked, seeming fairly interested.

"Ah, mate, I really have no idea. I wasn't expecting all this to happen now. I mean, you know I've always, well, you know, thought Hermione was... well brilliant and just great. But I didn't know she had the same, I dunno, thoughts or what ever. Like I said back in 4th year, they do get crazy when they're older! Blimey, Harry, I can't believe she sent me that picture.."

"Yeah, did she ever say what was up with that? I mean, no complaints, I'm sure, but it seems so out of character for her. I can't even imagine Hermione in a tight dress, let alone nearly naked." Harry puzzled. Ron thought about what he should say, Harry was his best mate so might as well go whole hog and talk about it all. Who else would he share with? Surely not his brothers, they'd never let it go after that.

"You know, mate, she just said she had this dream, didn't go into detail, but I guess it was fairly racey. And she wanted to think of a way to know if I could, I guess, ever see her like that or what ever. And she said something about, ah, the end of last year what with all that happened," Ron carefully avoided saying the department of mysteries, trying to keep Harry's mind off of it, "that she just didn't really want to wait around wondering and worrying and possibly regretting not doing something. So she just did it."

"Blimey, man, I dunno. Girls, never know what they're going to do. I know Cho always had something going on when we tried things. At least Hermione just came out and kinda said what she meant, ya' know? That's good."

"Yeah.. So, I know that's not really where your mind is now, but have you thought of anyone else? I mean you fancied Cho for awhile.. " Ron asked, hoping to keep the conversation lighthearted.

"Ah, not really, man. I've just kind of been... You know... In my head a lot recently. Punched my cousin in the face, though. That was fun. I dunno.." Harry avoided Ron's eyes as he talked, looking outside.

"Yeah..." Ron could think of nothing else to say. He knew he wouldn't want to talk about it and knew Harry was probably feeling the same. But he wanted him to know if he needed something, he and Hermione were there for him. Hopefully he conveyed all of that... Ron sighed

"Wonder what it's going to be like this year? I hope we have an actual Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I sure do miss Lupin. I hoped I would have heard from him this Summer, but.. you know I haven't really written anyone." Harry said, in a poor attempt at subject change.

"Oh, he's been around, mate. Stops in from time to time. He looks okay. Lonely, but okay. Dumbledore has him doing some undercover work." Ron said.

The two of them talked into the night, about school, speculating on what Snape was up to, with what was to come, with what Dumbledore wanted to speak to Harry about. All of it. Ron was glad to see Harry seemed to be coping as well as anyone could. Harry was just happy to have his friends about him once again.

* * *

"I don't like it, Arthur! I don't like it at all! This will not end well, I can tell you that right now!" Mrs. Weasley said in an angry whisper to her husband across their kitchen table.

"I know, Molly, but Dumbledore has his reasons, he always has his reasons. You know he cares for the boy, he couldn't do this like this if he didn't have to." Arthur responded, patting his wife's arm in a

consoling manner.

"I don't care! There has GOT to be a better way. It's impossible that this is necessary. Did you see his face tonight, dear? He has had a rough time of it over there, all alone, dealing with this when it's all for naught! He doesn't have to be mourning! He's had too much sadness in his life already. We have to tell him." Molly whispered passionately, tears forming in her brown eyes.

"We cannot." Arthur said sternly, softening slightly he wiped the tears from Molly's eyes with his thumb. "Oh, Molly, I wish that we could. But the connection between Harry and He Who Must Not Be Named is a very real problem. For the moment, it seems prudent for all but us to stay in the dark about Sirius's current status. He will know very soon, and Ron and Hermione will be there with him when he finds out. Plus, my sweet dear, he'd probably think we'd gone mad. He'll have to see for himself. Let's just do the best we can to give him a pleasant stay here."

They sat at their table for some time, not talking, just looking at one another. The fear of what was unraveling in the world around them was there, but mostly it was the fear of what was happening at home. Molly was worried about not only Harry and how he would take all that he would soon learn about, but Bill and his new _fiancée_. And the Twins and their business. Of course it was booming, but they did get themselves into trouble. She worried about Percy and how he was, and Charlie in

Romania. At least she knew Ron and Ginny were safe, home with her or at school with Dumbledore.

Arthur's mind wandered to the Order and what they could all do.

After awhile, they stood, embraced, and went to bed exhausted. How nice it would be if just a few of their worries would become irrelevant.

* * *

This old house was an odd place for sure. Their were severed heads of old house elves up the stair case. They had to be silent in the hall way, lest they wake screaming portraits covered by thick velvet curtains. The sitting room walls were lined with bookshelves full of all manner of dark books. They had been informed the house had previously belonged to Sirius's parents, who, they gathered, were not the most, ah, friendly sort of wizards. Still she was having a decent time in the house.

Various people shuffled in and out all the time. Remus was full of great stories, other order members her mother knew from years ago came in with stories of her mom when she was young. Olive was enjoying herself. And with each person she met, she learned more about Hogwarts.

"When do you think we'll go get our supplies for school? I don't have all of these books and could definitely use some more potion ingredients."

"You always 'need' more potions stuff, Olive. I think you're addicted, haha! And I'm not sure, I'd say probably in the next few weeks. Term is coming up soon. Don't worry, your parents aren't likely to forget." Benji retorted, stretched out lazily across his bed in the guest room they shared, eyes closed.

"Ha. Ha. There is nothing wrong with being prepared, and you never know when you might come across a new potion you want to give a try. You can't really talk, I haven't seen another soul with so many magical history and runes books. I think you own most of what has been published on some topics."

"I like a good read and I like learning. Having reference material has helped us on more than one adventure in the past, has it not?" he looked up at her with his pale eyes.

Olive had always found Benji's eyes intriguing. Though of course she never saw him as more than a best friend, maybe a brother, that's just how it was between them. Still, he had an interesting gene pool, his mother was Greek and had the palest green eyes Olive had ever seen, and sleek dark hair. His father was from Morocco and had a deep skintone and dark eyes. The combination had given Benjamin warm brown skin, pale blue/green eyes, and dark hair he kept short, quite the contrast. He'd gotten his mother's height as well, most guys probably would have been grouchy about this but it never bothered Benji.

"True enough" Olive said, getting to her feet. "Do you think we'll be sorted together? I would miss your face if you were in another house."

"Yeah, we probably will. We're both pretty equally smart and brave and junk. Although I'm pretty sure that I'm weirder," he joked

"You wish." Olive said with a laugh.

"Your parents going to get that place in Hogsmeade?" He asked

"Ah. Yeah, I think so. I dunno. I think they'd get more business in Diagon Alley, more people do their shopping there. But I guess if they have no other choice, they'll travel to Hogsmeade. I just wonder about the muggle born students, how will they get to an all magical village?" Olive mused.

"No clue, but I'm sure they'll think of that. They're fairly bright, your parents."

"Fairly strange is more like it, but yes, they are intelligent. We can probably go see them while we're at school. Your parents, too. Have they written?"

Benjamin sat up. "Nah, probably too busy, but I'm not worried. You know how my mom is with work. And my dad had a few contracts to close out before leaving. I'm sure I'll hear from them soon" He said in a relaxed tone that matched his facial expression.

"Eh, true enough. Wonder what they're up to down there?" Olive said in reference to Sirius and Remus, who had been obviously planning something all day.

"Probably stuff for the order.. We should get involved" Said Benji with a mischievous grin.

The pair of them stood and crept down the hall, to get a better listen.


End file.
